Somewhere Above the Endless Night
by SerpicoCanari
Summary: The Devil begged God for Erik to be reincarnated, to be given a fair chance. Despite Erik now being exceptionally beautiful, God overlooked a detail which may make wooing Christine impossible. Will love triumph? Even if Christine remembers who he really is? As other lives are ruined and the Devil remains unsatisfied he wonders, was it worth it? Angst heavy.
1. The Devil, and Erik

_Hey folks, Im editing this a bit, since I began writing it when I was 16, and am now 21... please feel free to PM me if you feel the need, about spelling errors or the like and where you saw them. I used to be a sloppy writer. Please enjoy!_

XXXXX

One day the devil was bored, which was becoming an increasingly common phenomenon, responsible for the numerous suicides and homicides of beautiful women and their husbands. He came upon Paris in 1875, and decided to engage in some other sort of activity, as the destruction of beauty brought no pleasure. Not to mention it was all too easy. He decided to see one of the operas his fellow demons were raving about,Faust, which had an interesting character called Mephistopheles. Lucifer entered the famous L'Opera and enjoyed the silence that followed him as people would stop everything to stare at his beauty. He had been the favorite of God for a reason. He sat in box one and began to watch.

He thought it was amusing, the story, an laughed at his fictionalized self prancing in red upon the stage. Then Marguerite came on the stage…if he had a heart, it would've stopped. She was so lovely, he would've mistaken her for one of the angels. When she began to sing, he was absolutely certain of it. Her long ethereal blonde hair, porcelain skin, the graceful, dainty limbs. And there was a precious sweetness to her that caused him to delay longer on deciding if she was truly human. It wouldn't have surprised him if all of the men in the world were in love with her. He had to know who she was. He searched for the program to find her name…..it was on the floor, he grabbed it, and sitting back up his eyes glanced over the other boxes, stopping at box five.

He had previously thought it empty, but now he could vaguely make out a shadow, he knew it was a man, a gentleman, actually, by his straight proud way of sitting. And he could tell that he too was enraptured by the little diva on the stage. He flipped through the program, and found the name: Christine Daae. An explosion of gasps drew his attention up, Mlle. Daae had fainted after singing her song. She was rushed off stage. Lucifer looked over at box five, but this time it was truly empty. He saw a few other young men disappear from their boxes. It was now that he noticed the strange, ugly hole in the domed ceiling, where the chandelier should have been. To say he was intrigued was the understatement of the century.

Lucifer left the box, and invisible, continued through the halls of the opera, following a young noble who was talking with his brother.

"I know it's the same girl, Philippe. I must speak to her."

"Alright, but don't do anything foolish."

"I've never heard her sing like that!"

Philippe left and the young man, in his brightly colored, dapper clothes rushed along, the devil in pursuit. They squeezed through groups of reporters, ballet rats, and other men, clutching roses. Lucifer heard squeals from the ballets rats when he brushed by them unseen.

"It's the Opera Ghost!"

"Ack- I felt him glance my arm!"

"Stay together, so he cant steal any of us."

Opera Ghost? Lucifer couldn't dwell on this, as the young man had pushed his way into the angel's dressing room. He glided in after. There she was, pale and trembling upon silken pillows. The young man…Raoul, was speaking to the girl, but she was pretending to not know him. Lucifer knew they had a past, and that that past love was renewed now. So why did she pretend otherwise? Raoul and everyone else was rushed out, and Lucifer was alone with the girl. This was Christine Daae. She paced her room, the look in her eyes hinting at paranoia. She stopped in front of him.

"Are you there?" she said timidly.

Lucifer was taken aback by this, how could she know he was there? Maybe she was an angel. But then a voice, a male voice, filled the room with such power that Lucifer dropped to the ground. It was singing.

"Christine, Christine, come to me..."

God was here! She truly was an angel! But then Christine ran past the paralyzed Lucifer, crying-

"Angel!"

Lucifer sat up and saw Christine was kneeling before a tall mirror, which had been behind him the whole time…which meant it was the voice this girl sensed, not him.

"Well done, my child…the angels wept to-night."

The tenderness and love in this voice were so bitterly familiar that Lucifer was frozen to the spot in remembrance of his Father, and watched numbly as the mirror opened and Christine disappeared before his eyes. But then he thought he saw a man on the other side. A man!

He shook his head, shaking off the hypnotic effect of the voices. What in the world had he stumbled upon in this opera? Not one, but twobeings with voices of such perfection he was nearly tempted to weep…he hadn't felt anything like that in centuries, perhaps even not since heaven. He had to know who these beings were. Angels? Human? He had to hear these voices again, being the Angel of Music himself once, he in all of existence was the only who knew how precious this divine pair were.

XXXXX

Lucifer couldn't have thought up anything so cruel, pathetic, but ultimately poignant as Erik and Christine. He had stayed at the Opera for the past few months, watching the tragedy play out. He learned that Erik, the vessel of that god's voice, was the shadow he saw in box five, and was the one whom the ballet rats called "the opera ghost", and was "not an angel, or a ghost, but only a man, Erik." Really one of the most pathetic men he'd ever known, because of how he let himself be crippled by his physical body, but then he thought of the one who surely ordained it. He thought once more of the reasons why he rebelled against the one he loved most. And Christine, he knew, through her impulsive and petty acts, was indeed merely (an extraordinarily gifted) human. Through her avoidance and lies to Erik, he fiercely resented her cowardice and backhanded nature…most of all because he knew that aside from her voice and gentleness, she was not worth a man with so many talents. Not that he cared.

But for all of the faults and annoyances of these two imperfect beings, when they sang together in the darkness of the opera cellars, Lucifer wept with happiness. Listening to their soaring voices together brought such fulfillment he had not known since his days as the Master of Heaven's Choir. And despite all else about them, he felt his fondness for the two grow with each note. It felt rather that he regained a little more of his past glory every time the little Swede descended with her teacher. He wished he could sit there and listen to them forever. Though he soon realized all of the talent was Erik's, as Christine alone was good, but not like she was when she was with Erik. So instead of following Christine, he became the shadow of the ghost, and grew to like his dark humor so like his own. His sad disappointing existence, so like his own….

Anyways, things were stagnating at the opera in the sad situation. The two lovers and Erik going along their fate of misery, and it was becoming so depressing as to be oppressive to Lucifer's usually sardonic and upbeat nature.

Beelzebub appeared on the roof top one morning, while Lucifer was gazing over the Parisian horizon with Erik (who obviously didn't know he was there), he hadn't seen Lucifer for a while and wanting in on whatever fun he had gotten into.

"Lucifer!"

The devil scowled.

"Shut up, you're going to spoil it."

But Erik already heard it, and looked frantically around, seeing nothing. Then he searched the roof, lasso prepared, as Lucifer knew by now. He looked at Beelzebub.

"Great. He doesn't get a lot of peaceful moments. Thanks for killing the moment."

Beelzebub bust out laughing. Erik, finding no one, disappeared through a passageway, back down to his cellar.

"You're joking! Since when do you care about anything?" Lucifer punched him, more for emphasis than to do any real harm.

"I was observing him."

"Anyways," Beelzebub rolled his eyes, "I haven't seen you around for a while, so I thought you must've found something fun to play with- is it your companion Quasimodo in the cape?"

"No, he is not my toy. And you are forbidden from making him yours." Lucifer turned back towards the sunrise, sighing.

"Whoa, when did you become so somber?" Lucifer glared at him "Then this must be serious. But it's not like you, I mean, he's not what you normally obsess over-"

"Have you heard him sing?" Lucifer said softly. "It sounds like Father."

"You must be exaggerating, no human could be so gifted."

"You're right…I daresay his voice is even more perfect. He and his little protégé would put heaven's choir to shame."

"You miss the music, don't you?"

Lucifer gazed straight into the sun, the brightness having no effect, studying the heat flares. Tears make two perfect shining streaks down each side of his face.

"No one else knows this, but He stripped me of music when He cast me down."

"What!" Beelzebub stared in horror. "But you are literally music, not the angel of, but you are music….for him to strip you of it, he has removed your very soul! How are you still existing Morning Star?"

"That is my punishment, and only this. I am to remain hallow forever."

Beelzebub cried out in rage, Lucifer remained stoic, but turned his eyes upon him.

"HOW DARE HE! HOW COULD HE IF HE EVER LOVED YOU, HOW, HOW-" he wept for Lucifer, "how could he do this to you? You! The greatest of all of us. It's not just!"

Lucifer laughed.

"Stop dear Beelzebub."

Beelzebub restrained himself, then grabbed ahold of Lucifer's arm.

"Come on, I know something fun we can do, to forget our sorrow for a day. This isn't doing you any good."

"But, I feel compelled to stay here, I feel something terrible is going to happen."

"All the more reason to go!" He was pulling Lucifer along now. "We can plot to get your music back while we're at it too, come on!"

Lucifer sighed.

"Okay, a week, then I'm coming back here!"

"Alright!"

They disappeared.

XXXXX

Lucifer returned eight days later, appearing in Erik's cellar. Outside it was night. Christine and Erik were together, the were gazing through a little window into a room, and Christine was yelling at Erik to stop playing games. Lucifer felt chilled at the almost malicious laugh that bubbled out of the now revealed visage of Erik. Raoul and a Persian man were inside the torture chamber. What in the world had happened while he was absent? Erik had finally placed the ultimatum before Christine: him, or death for all. Disaster, ruin, death. Surely the frail child would never accept him, they were all going to die. And their voices would be gone with them. He could not allow this!

In a blast of light, he spirited to Heaven, rushing against time to the throne to the highest.

"Lucifer!" God cried warmly, "Where have you been?"

"Here and there, wandering the earth." Lucifer said, agitated.

"Always the same."

"What has Erik done to deserve your curse?"

God's expression changed, to almost puzzlement.

"What?"

"Here!" Lucifer raised his hand and a vision of what was happening in the cellar appeared. "Erik, the Phantom of the Opera!"

God sighed.

"Yes…Erik."

"Why did you have to curse him with such an unhappy condition? Surely it would not have been difficult to have given him a normal face, even if ugly, but to make him resemble death when he has a voice of such splendor-"

"So you have fallen in love with his voice?"

"That's not the point-"

"But I think it is."

"No! I demand to know why he is made to bear such a burden!"

"As with every being, he has a lesson to learn that could not be grasped if he had been made like other men."

"But is it necessary to inflict so much suffering for the sake of knowledge? Surely there must be some gentler way."

"You should know suffering for knowledge better than anyone. What have you learned from your suffering, Morning Star?"

"Stop it! If something doesn't change, they will all die!"

"And why do you care, Lucifer?"

"It is a waste of beauty! Surely you know the beauty of his voice."

"Is that all there is to him, his voice?" God gestured to the vision "Watch what happens…you will see what Erik earns from his misery, and I ask, would you deprive him of this just to ease your own emptiness? Even if he should not die, would you have him sing to you for eternity?"

"Yes, I would!" Lucifer came closer, pounding a fist into the air, "I would! His voice completes me like nothing ever has, I admit it! Give him to me Father. I shall bless him with more happiness than you could find in your heart to give him!" He knelt before God, a tear falling from Lucifer's eye upon His foot. "Please, I ask you to give me Erik, and of all the beings you have dominion over- Erik will be only mine!"

"Watch, now is the moment."

Lucifer looked up into the vision, seeing Christine sitting alone, a strangely serene look upon her face. The door opens, and Christine rises and steps forward, almost eager. Erik enters and stops to look at her. He walks up to her, uncertain, reaches out with his hand like a frightened child, and touches her face. Then he stepped a little closer, and slowly touched his lips to her forehead. He looked at her, grasped her hands, then fell at her feet sobbing. Christine began to cry with him.

"Poor, unhappy Erik…"

Erik looked up at her and peeled back his mask, casting it aside. He pulled out an old, gold ring and slid it upon her ring finger.

"Consider this a wedding present for you and that boy, from your poor unhappy Erik. Only remember when I am dead, to come back and bury the ring with my body."

"What?"

"I know how much you love him."

Erik lets go of her hands. Christine bends down and kisses Erik on the forehead. They remain there, crying.

God waved a hand through the vision, causing it to dissipate. Lucifer stared into the space where it was before.

"Do you see now? Would you still deprive him of this salvation?"

"He loved her so much that he let her go…" Lucifer shook his head and stood up, facing God. "What sort of salvation is that? Why shouldn't he get to be happy?"

"How would you have him be happy?"

"Let him be loved, for his own sake!"

God laughed.

"Are you so very conceited to fall in love with your own essence?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Erik. You've wondered how it is he has such a voice…."

God shrugged. Lucifer stared at him, then screamed.

"NO. It's not true! Tell me what I have conceived in my mind is false."

"Tell me."

"Erik has my soul, my music!"

Lucifer turned from God and put his face into his hands.

"It seems you are capable of selflessness after all. You can learn much from your better half."

"Give him to me, Father."

"No."

"You may have given Erik music, but he is still a separate being, and for him to be the victim of my punishment is…evil! He didn't have to be ugly…"

"What would you have me do, Lucifer?"

Lucifer paced around, then looked up.

"Give him a chance to be happy- a fair chance! With someone who will love him. Give him another chance."

Lucifer got down on one knee. God stared at him for a long time, then chuckled. He raised a hand, and Lucifer stood up.

"Alright. Erik and Christine will be born again in 1992. They will encounter each other in 2009. Erik will have a fair chance. To make up for his unfortunate deformities, he will be the most beautiful human alive. And he will keep all of his skills and talents, so don't worry about that. You are forbidden from interfering with his life, ever. Happy?"

Lucifer looked at God, and smiled faintly.

"Thank you."

"Erik is going to die in three weeks. You may keep him company."

"Goodbye Father."

XXXXX

Lucifer came back to the desolate cellar, Erik was alone now, staring into the darkness. Everything around him was in ruins, broken, like his heart. This time Erik could hear him, and he spun around and a thin lasso shot out. Lucifer caught the end. He pulled Erik to him.

"Stop."

Erik dropped the rope and backed away.

"Who are you?"

"Your companion through your dying days."

Erik laughed.

"It doesn't matter if you're lying anyhow. You can take anything you want, even my life….just be sure to advertise it in the paper."

He sat down in the middle of the floor. Lucifer sat down in front of him.

"You know, we are two sides of the same coin, in a way. You have my music which was once mine, I have the beauty that should've been yours."

"What in the world are you talking about?"

"I'm the devil."

"And I'm Don Juan."

Lucifer was certain Erik thought he was hallucinating the whole time, but Erik humored him and sang until the last day. Erik passed away, in his coffin, humming. Lucifer was the one who went to the paper's office to deliver the advertisement:

ERIK IS DEAD

And so the waiting began.

...

1992, a young man with curling blonde hair, dressed dapperly in black and white was standing in a hospital room. He was staring at a small baby being passed to the new mother, the father nearby. No one could see him. The doctor smiled,

"It's a girl."

Lucifer wondered if he was in the wrong room. The father looked slightly dismayed, the mother crooned softly to her daughter, who was oddly quiet.

"We only picked a boy's name…" the father said.

"Well, instead of Erik, she can be Erika…" The mother said, gazing at the child.

"But Erika is a terrible name." Father said, before he could stop himself. Lucifer found himself agreeing with that sentiment. But his heart had sank, because he knew he was in the right room. This was the fated child.

"How about…Erin?"

Lucifer looked up angrily at the ceiling. Damn chromosome! What cruel joke was this? Here was the one he waited for. A girl named Erin. But he noticed ruefully that god kept his promise, she was indeed the most beautiful, even at birth.


	2. A Second Upbringing

Erin came to be a subject of horror and terror to her parents, but things didn't start out that way…

Up until she turned five, she was an absolute delight to everyone who came around her. People were drawn to her like sinners to a cathedral. She was like a perfect little doll, hardly speaking, gussied up in dresses and lace each day by her doting mother, Sandra, ebony hair long and rich, full of ribbons. They never aaaw-ed when they looked at her, but gazed in rapturous silence. Her yellow eyes were of fascination to all, though her mother swore up and down they were just a very light shade of "hazelish brown". Her Father, Josiah, often found excuses to never be in the same room. She and Josiah were the silent ones, Sandra was the one who filled their home with laughter and music. And she loved to show off her daughter, so parties were common. Erin had everything all of the other little girls who came over could ever want, but she had never asked for the countless gifts that rained in from the generosity of those who adored beauty. Her life was absolutely charmed, on the surface.

But since "it's a girl", there had been a bitter resignation that followed her father around and tainted everything around him. It seemed to affect Sandra more than Erin, and indeed Josiah merely ignored Erin. But he directed an ugly, passive anger at his wife, and never being able to cope well with displeasing anybody, threw parties to distract herself and to draw men to distract her as much as to showcase Erin. But she could bear it because she had the darling daughter she had always longed for, and honestly, being only above average in looks, she was truly proud of Erin's beauty. She swore to all her friends Erin would be queen of something one day, so easily would she be able to get any man. Her fellow mothers would laugh politely while tentatively bouncing their own daughters upon their laps.

When Erin turned five, one of her mother's "friends", a handsome producer, presented her with a baby grand piano. When Erin first saw it, she stared at it for a long time before slowly approaching it, lightly touching the side and keys with her fingers. Then she sat down and began playing, fast.

The producer laughed and said "You never said you had a little prodigy hiding in your house, how long has she been playing?"

Sandra stared at her daughter.

"She's never touched an instrument in her life…"

Josiah heard the piano and peeked out of his "office". He saw Erin at the piano and rushed down.

"What is this?" He looked at his daughter like he'd fallen in love with her.

Erin stopped at his voice.

"Wait, wait, sweetheart-" Erin stood up and walked out of the room, never turning her yellow eyes in his direction "Wont you play for Daddy?" He turned to Sandra "What the hell was that?"

After that, Josiah began to show a guarded interest in his child, forbidding Sandra from hiring a tutor, but teaching Erin himself. Erin sporadically would throw fits in the middle of his lessons, and storm out, and the lessons became steadily less structured until Josiah merely sat there and watched Erin play. A year later he bought her a full grand piano, and Sandra hardly saw her daughter at all. Josiah eventually dedicated the second largest room in the house for Erin and her interests. Each birthday he'd buy her a new instrument: violin, guitar, flute, organ….and she knew how to play each one, intimately, with the exception of the guitar. That took her an hour to figure out. When Sandra invited her friends over, Erin would reluctantly perform for them and be fussed over, Josiah would watch, his expression showing what Erin felt. The girls her age that would come over bored Erin to death with their inane "gossip", doll's play, and general fighting over her or ignoring her in a bout of envy. Erin soon became good at disappearing from places she didn't want to be.

Erin learned other tricks besides disappearing, and entertained herself when her "girlfriends" (as her mother called them) came over by tormenting them, causing them to believe that the house was haunted and that the many paintings in the house could all talk. Common happenings were flying dolls, purses, money, and jewelry and toys disappearing, sometimes reappearing inside of another girl's bag, starting up fights that amused Erin to no end. When the girls stayed the night, they would be disturbed by shadows outside the window with glowing eyes, snarls coming from the closet, and the furniture shaking. One time one of the girls screamed and went looking for Sandra, who ran into the room, but everything stopped before she entered. Since then, they stopped sleeping over. Sandra asked Erin several times if she was scaring the girls, Erin laughed and laughed and said the girls watched too many scary movies. Sandra banned Erin from the "music hall" (as the room where she played came to be called) for a week. While Sandra was baking desserts for a party that evening, several knives went missing. When she cut the cake to serve it at the party, they were inside. During the party the lights began to flicker and a thundering sound came from the music hall, like all of the instruments being played at once. Erin was standing next to her when they entered the hall, the violin and guitar falling to the floor.

"They missed me, Mother."

The ban ended, only having lasted half a day.

After that, whenever Sandra did something Erin didn't want, the house itself seemed to rebel against her. There was no one she could turn to for they were all won over to Erin's side with only a well timed smile from the child. Josiah thought she was becoming neurotic.

Even though she was only a little girl, she was extremely lovely, and each day only increased to the point that a new guest to the house would emit a little gasp upon first seeing her. She moved with a stern, masculine grace, not loose and thrusting her hips like the other girls in imitation of their mothers. Mothers who stared at her with an odd hostility in their eyes. But maybe it was because unfortunate things would happen to anything they set down for longer than a minute.

Josiah was walking along the pathway that wound throughout the property when he heard singing. It seemed to be coming from no particular direction. He turned around wildly, searching for the source. It flowed through him and melted into the air, seeming to drain his will with it. He stopped and stood still, listening. Then it became faint, then disappeared. Erin watched her father from the tree branches above him, observing the affects of her voice.

A little later, oddly enough, Sandra was pregnant (by Josiah!). How this happened was a mystery to Erin, and she was convinced by the end of the nine months that anyone who willingly bore children was surely mad. Among the ills of pregnancy were vomit, mood swings, embarrassing displays of gluttony, swelled feet and vein-ridden legs, and not to mention the bulging stomach and monstrous breasts. And from this painful and disgusting trial her sister was born. Amelia. Amelia was a disappointment to both of her parents; one, she was a girl; two, she as pretty as any child- but to parents accustomed to Erin, she was ugly. Sandra kept up her duty as mother, but had limited affection for the child. Amelia was the one who, with her birth, took the beauty Sandra had with her. Josiah, however, began to dote on her, endeared to her by her sheer normalness. He enjoyed how normal, predictable, and generally loving she was. And she was cute with her brown hair and big blue eyes.

Erin hated her. She saw in her a girl like all of the others who came to her house. And she began to wonder over her Father's attachment…she thought his distance was normal, but here he was, behaving like Mother, except not so stifling and desperate. She watched her father often, from windows, shadows, and other invisible places. Watched him swirl his wine around for hours, staring at a flickering laptop screen, never drinking from it. Watched him button his shirt up when he stepped out of his car returning from work. Watched him watch her Mother sleeping, before walking back to his own room for the night. And she would watch her father sleep, sitting in his chair, and swirling the glass of wine he left untouched nearby.

XXX

One day a boy came to the house, he was a cousin of one of the girls. They surrounded him, giggling and trying to beat the other girls to him, while his cousin laughed in embarrassment. Erin came out to see him, because there'd never been a boy her age in her house before. As soon as she entered the room, the boy looked at her and he blushed red. The other girls stopped talking. Erin stood there quietly, studying him…blonde hair, straight and hanging in his face, green eyes, freckles, clothes a tad too large and pants worn in that ridiculous way she sometimes saw older boys do on the streets. He stammered a hello. Erin decided he was nothing special, and walked away after a polite nod. She walked down the hallway, able to hear the children behind her, saying the obvious, predictable things. Then her father walked by her and shouted warmly:

"Hey there buddy! Look how tall you've grown!" Erin turned around and ran to peek at her father hugging this boy. "How about you come and check out the sword gallery?"

"Whoa, real swords, like, the ones in Prince of Persia?"

"Even cooler."

She followed them and watched her Father show off his prized collection, letting this boy hold several of them, instructing him how to stand, and let him hit a nearby dummy. He told the boy how he used to fight other people in competitions with the rapiers, while the boy stood there gaping and ooo-ing like an idiot. Yeah, well, she could be twice as graceful as anyone with a sword, better than that boy could even dream! She despised this boy like the rest of them.

That evening, she came upon her father playing with Amelia, who was now walking, clumsily, slowly, but full of giggles. There it was again! The light in his eyes, the warm laugh, such sickening tenderness. She entered, dress swirling about her knees, and glided onto a stool facing one of the windows. From the reflection in the glass, she saw Josiah look up at her, then back at Amelia. Then Erin sang. Josiah looked up at the first note, Erin couldn't tell if he was delighted or horrified, the reflection not being of great detail.

"Erin!" She stopped and looked back, "Go to your room, its late. And tell your mother to get Amelia."

She got her mother, but only pretended to go to her room. She watched her father pace his room and stand out on his balcony for most of the night. Now and then he would begin to softly sing the song she had sung up in the tree where he'd been walking. She alone could capture his attention in such a manner. He may not hold her and call her sweetheart- in fact, except for their time together in the music hall, he almost avoided her- but he would think of her endlessly. Now Josiah often made an appearance at his wife's parties, and returned to her bed at night- so much so that he was the only one entering it. He quickly avoided solitude because he would hear the siren singing, and no one would be there for the voice to be coming from. He sat through Erin's playing with increasing difficulty, because now she would sing, for hours and hours.

...

A few weeks later a different boy came to the house. He was dark all over, and had a name like no one else she'd ever heard. Except for the last name. Rajani Kapur….that made him the son of the Producer who gave Erin that first piano years ago.

He was the opposite of the boy who came before. He was quiet, and looked at the girls who besieged him with a noble distain. He didn't blush when he looked upon her, but gazed at her steadily, and they studied each other with an intimidating silence that made the girls make up an excuse and scuttle out of the room. They stepped closer to one another, even walking in a circle, like two predators sizing each other up. An equal? An equal? He was gracefully slender, and dressed like an adult, in carefully tailored clothing. Handsome, yes. So far like herself, yes.

"How old are you?" She asked.

"Nine." Just like her. "So what do you do for fun around here?"

"Play music."

"That's it?" he smiled, turning away "How boring…ACK!"

Erin had hooked her arm around his neck and pinned him to the floor. He flailed about, but Erin didn't so much as budge.

"Insolent boy!"

"Okay, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He quit moving. "Can you let go now?"

She did. And started to storm off.

"Wait! How'd you learn to do that?" she stopped.

"I didn't."

"Well…anyways, I meant that doing nothing but playing music is boring, not that music is. Is that really all you do?"

"Well then, what do you do for fun, since you're being so particular."

"I read, play games…fight."

"What's your weapon?"

He laughed and held up a fist.

"This!"

Erin scoffed.

Rajani continued; "Oh, then do you wanna fight, or are you worried you'll dirty your dress?"

"Well, hurry and get to it, or are you just blowing air, Mr. clever-trousers?"

They ran outside and wrestled. Erin laughed, which caused her to pause, but not long enough for Rajani to catch her off guard. It was fun and dirty and not like anything else she'd done before. Unfortunately Sandra caught them and let out a shriek at the state of Erin's clothing. Rajani was sent home and Erin to the bathroom. Josiah came in after being finding out what the hell all of the commotion was about. He was positively beaming.

"Who won?"

"I did."

"That's right!" He patted her on the back and laughed. "Now pretend to look upset when your Mother comes in here so she'll think I yelled at you." He winked at her and left.

Something in her clicked, and when Sandra walked in, she didn't have to pretend to be upset. Sandra had brought a change of clothes for after Erin's shower. A dainty little white dress with a pink sash. She left quickly.

When Erin came down stairs for dinner, the dress remained in the bathroom. She was dressed in black pants and a white button up shirt. Afterward she refused to wear girls clothing, but her semi-formal boy's dress was colorful and charming, contrasting wonderfully against her long black hair. Her mother tried to force her back, but Josiah took Erin out to buy a whole new wardrobe. Her mother would hide the clothes, but they always reappeared in Erin's closet. And the dresses disappeared entirely. Sandra always threatened that they had better not have been thrown away, Erin responded that it's not her fault that ghosts stole them.

...

When Rajani came again, Erin was watching the usual girls and boys socializing from the second floor. He joined her without alerting the rest to their presence. Suddenly the curtains drew themselves and the inside was dark. The children below screeched, and voices surrounded them.

"What's happening?" Rajani said looking at Erin. She was staring intently below, her mouth set into a firm, grim line.

The curtains opened and the commotion stopped, one of the girls looked up and saw Rajani and Erin, and the group ran upstairs, all talking rapidly.

"Did you see that?"

"See, the house is haunted!"

"It was sooo scary!."

"Rajani, didn't you hear the ghosts?"

It went on in that manner for the next few minutes, then it was lunch, and so they all shuffled outside, except for Erin, who went the opposite way. But Rajani followed her.

"What was that Erin?"

She laughed in her melodious way. He stared.

"Weren't you listening? They told you my house is haunted."

"I don't know…why weren't you scared?"

"Why should I be afraid?" She started to walk away.

"Aren't you going to eat lunch?"

She looked at him to say "Of course not, silly boy."

His next few visits followed essentially the same formula, with some strange occurrence happening, and Erin walking off to someplace unknown alone, laughing at him. One day he followed her to the music hall, and listened awestruck as she played at the piano and sang. Her voice gentle but faint, like a drawn out and resigned sigh. He turned away and breathed, wiping his eyes, faintly embarrassed. Someone tapped his shoulder, and Erin was standing there. He gasped and leapt back from this vision of loveliness. The music and singing hadn't stopped. But it ended abruptly when she stepped forward and started to talk.

"Did you like it?"

Rajani stammered,

"How were you here, and playing at the same time?"

"What are you talking about? I was asking if you enjoyed my mother's cooking."

Then she walked away, laughing.

The next time Rajani walked up to her when she was standing by the floor-length windows on the first floor and pulled back the draperies that supposedly like to draw themselves shut.

"I knew it!" He revealed to her slender thread, the same color as the drapes, sewed on so they could be pulled shut from some discreet location, like upstairs. Indeed, he followed the string, where it changed color to match it's background. "It was you the whole time, wasn't it?" He turned to her, and his triumphant grin faltered.

Erin was looking at him blankly.

"Who in the world would go through the trouble?"

Her eyes, the color of champagne, were intimidating.

"It was you…wasn't it?"

She grabbed him and easily dragged him into a study.

"Could you be any more obvious?" She paced the room, then looked at him, and screamed "Fine, you caught me!" more pacing, now quietly "Happy now?"

He was staring at her, admiringly.

"You're genius! To do all of that stuff, wow!"

Her face softened. And she fell into a chair.

"You cant tell anyone, of course."

"Why? It's amazing."

"Not if everyone knows how it's done!" She sneered "Really, have some common sense." she smiled "Even if you did tell, no one would believe you." Rajani opened his mouth, but she continued, in a darker tone "I'd make sure of it."

"Your secret's safe with me. But…"

"But?"

"Why don't you enter in any music contests? You'd win them all!"

She stood up and opened the door, they stepped out.

"Because."

Afterward, Erin and Rajani became friends, sort of. He dared to ask one day if she had anymore tricks, and so then she'd show them off to him and they'd laugh at the other children look frantically around for their missing phone or shoe. Or at them leap at a painting drop off of the wall. Rajani though felt bad and insisted that Erin make things reappear, instead of only disappearing. Or to limit the big shows of poltergeistry, staying less was more, but he really felt bad because he knew some of the kids had nightmares and one of the girls would cry after a bad scare. Eventually Erin gave him a nickname, illustrating his annoying stick-in-the-mud moralistic nature: Officer.

"Do you love her, Officer?"

"No! Stop calling me that."

They were talking about "the weeper" as they called her, so tender that'd she'd cry after one of Erin's pranks. She was dainty, sweet, and liked agreeing with people. Erin teased Officer a lot about her.

"What do you call police officers in your 'native' land?"

"Daroga, I think."

"Fine: do you love her, Daroga- your little weeper?"

"Erin!" he laughed, to hide his blushing "Knock it off."

"Well, all you do is police around here, I think it's a very fitting name."

...

Josiah began teaching Erin to fence and other sports when she turned ten. For this she began wearing her hair in a long braid that draped gracefully down her back and floated through the air behind her as she pranced around, rapier in hand. Rajani and occasionally some of the other boys who visited would join in the lessons. Josiah could barely beat Erin, but throughout the next year, she and Rajani remained equals. When Rajani entered fencing competitions, so did she. At one match, she again encountered Mr. Kapur.

"Hello there, still playing the piano?"

"Yes." She shook his hand, "the one you gave me is still the most precious thing I own. I don't think I ever said thank you, I'm eternally grateful."

"Then maybe you wouldn't mind entering a competition an associate of mine is holding? My son tells me all the time about how great you are at playing, and I've also heard about your singing."

"I'd have to ask my mother…"

"Just say yes, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Okay, I'll do it."

"Great! You'll really enjoy it. It could set your future."

Rajani walked up.

"I'm glad, now your talents will be put to good use!"

Erin won, of course. The fencing and music competition. She performed Danse Mon Esmeralda, brought it up an octave and played it on the piano, and sung it. The prize was some money, and gaining a little of a reputation in the performing arts world. She competed more, over the years, and colleges began offering free rides. She said, not interested. This drove her mother crazy. Also that Erin would always wear a tux to performances and never a dress.

"You ungrateful, spoiled brat! You throw away scholarships that other kids would kill to be considered for! You dress like a boy, but you know, you're not one- no matter how much your father may wish it! All I wanted was a pretty little girl- what happened to my daughter?" at this point she would huff and puff and rush out of Erin's room to sob, loudly.

Sandra would then complain at length to Josiah, who then began drinking that wine in the glass at night, and sleeping in his own room again.

Erin's compositions became steadily darker, alternating between thunder and soft rain…

...

Josiah and Erin were standing on his bedroom balcony, and he was showing her how to polish a sword. She was thirteen now, and was almost through the initial stages of puberty, although her body continued to appear sexless.. Her beauty had an androgynous feel, with her long, thin frame, and masculine gait. The sun made her eyes glow golden and brought out the blue undertones in her dark hair, which was loose at the moment, and floating in the wind. Josiah had finished and was watching Erin. She was singing quietly, looking out over to the horizon, rubbing the cloth over the blade. Josiah absent-mindedly stroked the flat side of his sword, then lay it aside. He stood and took the sword from Erin, who stopped singing.

"That's good enough." He placed it next to the other sword. Erin was already halfway to the door, assuming he wanted her to leave him alone now. "Erin."

She looked back, and he didn't say anything. He took her hands, and smiled.

"I know everyone's always telling you, but you are so beautiful Erin. And so smart, and talented. So beautiful!" he hugged her tightly, one hand feeling her thick hair. She didn't know what to make of this show of affection. How was one supposed to act? Then sat down on his bed, taking her down with him, laying on the mattress so her hair was like glistening ink across the pillows. Josiah was crying .

"You were the one singing when I walked outside, you're always the one singing! I cant get your voice out of my head…" He touched her cheek "Or this face, which is even more breathtaking than the moment before. I'm losing it. Losing it!"

His hands were now in her hair, twisting in her hair.

What was this? She didn't understand, entirely. But it…felt wrong! She felt fear cause her to shudder and freeze, eyes wide, instinctively knowing what was happening, but not having words to describe it. What was this?

"I…I must have you." he kissed her, hands fumbling to hands fumbling to undress her. "All of you, little nightingale."Help! She was paralyzed on the bed. But her mind was racing. His lips were on her neck. Help me!"Arrraaack!"Josiah was ripped from her, and went flying into the opposing wall, the wind knocked out of him. Erin jolted up and let out a wail, holding her head in her hands. She looked at her father and thought she saw a faint outline of someone standing over him. It became clearer for a moment, a man with blonde hair and blue eyes, looking at her- then it was gone.

XXXX

"You interfered, Lucifer. Even though I had told you it was forbidden."

God crossed his hands, and sat back, clearly expecting an explanation. Lucifer always seemed to have an explanation for going against orders. Lucifer stepped forward, brimming with the self-assurance that only righteous conviction could bring.

"I had to. She needed me, she wanted my help."

"And?"

Lucifer looked at him with surprise.

"Do you really mean that I should've allowed her to be raped by her father?"

"I mean that you must learn to not interfere. It is a part of the principle of Free Will. We cannot interfere, because it deprives them of the chance to have to deal with consequences of life, and certain experiences can be really defining. With Free Will, I promised to stay out of their lives, for the most part, instead of meddling. When you interfered with Erin, she lost the chance to find it within herself to resist, to fight back on her own."

Lucifer was unfazed, and shot back.

"I couldn't just watch it happen, Father." He continued "How can you stand it, watching all of the world cry out to you, in pain and anguish? What use is Free Will when they cant ever seem to make the right choices and everyone has to suffer because for it?"

God looked down, frowning. Then he let out a faint laugh.

"Well, that's why I'm all the way up here, Morning Star. I can't stand to watch either. One day you'll tire of wandering the Earth, as I did. You'll grow weary of people and their perpetual blindness, as I have. I would rather they stop turning to me, and start fixing their own problems, if they can. I would rather they learn and start making the choices that will bring them good lives, and good lives for others.…I still have hope for them."

Lucifer bowed his head. And clenched his hands.

"Then you know how I felt, and then knowing me, you must know that I had no choice but to intervene." He moved and sat at the feet of God, and held His hands. "Appoint me as her guardian. Let me protect her."

"You don't plan on making everything fall into place for her happiness, do you? You're going to have me start believing that you only had her born again to put your own mind at ease."

"No, Father," Lucifer moved to His lap, "I just hated that he was a victim of something outside of his control…is Christine a boy now?"

"Erin must earn her happiness, through her own strength of character and will, just like everyone else. It is integral to her purpose."

"I'm not trying to make it so there are no difficulties in her life at all, its just that, I want to stop unnecessary suffering. Negative events, that knowing her, would severely damage her, rather than building strength. Suffering that would bring no benefit."

"Unnecessary suffering? All experiences serve a purpose, and I will admit to you that they are not always good or beneficial purposes. Sometimes suffering occurs, for its own sake, because that individual draws it upon themselves. Other times it is to deepen one's soul and to create compassion and understanding that would've never occurred before."

Lucifer laughed, it had the strained tone of bitterness.

"Indeed, misery carves out your soul, so more happiness can fill it, right?"

"That is true, though it often takes time and maturity for one to see the blessings only misery can bring. I am still trying to teach you this, but you, my child, are endlessly stubborn. But I have not given up hope on you either. You should be kinder to humans, also, for though it may amaze you, some do pray for your salvation and forgiveness as well."

Lucifer's eyes widened.

"What?"

"But they make the same mistake as you, assuming that I can cure all, like:" he snapped his fingers, "But I cannot give forgiveness to someone who has not asked for it and would not accept it, and salvation is in the hands of those who long for it. I cannot give salvation. It is earned. And besides, humans say that self-forgiveness has to come first, before the burden truly feels lifted."

God leaned back into his chair, looking at Lucifer intently. Lucifer was looking back at him, mouth slightly parted, speechless. God, lifted Lucifer off his lap and stood up. They were now standing, facing heaven. Heaven was silent for them. Then God spoke;

"I appoint you Erin's guardian. Use your best judgment. Try to limit your interactions as much as possible. You know how it messes with a human's mind to know us, in tangible form."

"Yes, Father."

They turned their eyes upon one another. Lucifer turned away abruptly, laughing.

"See ya around, old man!"

God sighed.


	3. The Phantom of Saint Cecilia's

_The song lyrics in this chapter and throughout the rest of the story are from "Somewhere Above the Sun Shines Bright" from Ken Hill's Phantom of the Opera. Search the title on youtube, its quite magnificent._

* * *

"She's not there!"

"Really?"

The group spilled out from the wings, onto the stage. The theater had the standard lights on, and except for a grand piano the stage was barren. They spread out, looking around.

"It's a little weird to _not _see her there, after three years, it's like she's a part of the place."

"Careful, Erin may not be here, but the ghost might be!"

"Don't be stupid Meg, everyone knows Erin _is_ the ghost."

Carla turned from Meg, and sat at the piano running a hand over the keys without pressing them down. Carla had a great mane of red hair, and she liked to walk around like a model would. She had a low tolerance for dim-wittedness and naivety. Meg took small steps around, then examined the ends of her black hair, sighing with every split end. Michael stood by the piano, and said;

"Well, we don't really know that."

"I know she is."

Ronnie and Tyler sat on the floor and already had their deck of cards out. Tyler looked up.

"If she is the theater ghost, then I wanna know how she pulls it all off, I mean, it's not likely, cuz stuff happens and she could be in plain sight, doing nothing."

"I hope she shows up before lunch ends." Meg said, abandoning her hair ends for her nails. The two girls, Diana and Arielle, by Carla agreed. Carla pressed a few keys idly.

"She's going to notice me this year, I swear it…" she sighed "I wont be ignored!"

Laughter rang out through the theater.

"_Now when have I ignored you, sweet diva?"_

Carla leapt up from the bench. They all looked around. No Erin. There was laughter again, fainter. Everyone was still, waiting. The air was dead, and dust particles could be seen like flowing oil, slow and thick through the beams of the stage lights. Sounds of the stage creaking under the shifting of weight. Someone scuffed their shoe against the floor. Nothing.

Then the lights went out. Gasps. Then echoing laughter, low, distant, but coming from all directions.

"Ack- something brushed against me!"

"It was just me."

"Oh."

Carla screamed.

"Something's got my ankle!" Another shriek and a thud "Ouch! Let go!"

"Where are you?"

"Over here."

"It's gone."

"We'd better go."

"Yeah."

They rushed out, the door spilling a rectangle of light into the darkness. Then the door shut. The lights rose again. But this time someone was on stage.

She stood for a moment, looking over the stage. She was tall enough to be imposing to most men, and her thin frame lent her beautiful silhouettes no matter what she was doing. She was not voluptuous, but had delicately fleshed out limbs, and curves that were just so, but indistinguishable with her style of dress, which was intended to erase all signs of a woman's shape. She wore black slacks, patent-leather dress shoes, and an oxford shirt, sleeves rolled up and the top button undone.

"Erin."

She turned her head to the speaker. Her face was handsome, and had the flushed beauty of youth, light danced in her white-wine eyes. Her ink-black hair was of varying lengths, in the back only reaching the nape of her neck, the rest being long enough to hang in her eyes if combed forward. But it was loosely brushed back, a lock or two curling around her face. Her hair seemed to swallow the light, rather than reflect it back from whence it came.

"Mr. Bradley, how was your summer?"

A man, in tie, shirt, and slacks- a teacher, in short- walked out into the light.

"Oh, same old, swamped by the things I had to do to prepare for this year."

He smiled broadly, trying his best to be winsome, but then he took to staring at Erin. He was young, for his profession, and only a few years older than her.

"Well, you've grown into a positively dashing young man." Mr. Bradley said, playfully.

"Many of my classmates think the same of you." Erin said.

Erin sat at the piano, back facing the keyboard.

"So, what are your plans for this year?" Mr. Bradley edged closer to the piano.

Erin yawned.

"I'm not particularly interested at all, so do what you like. I don't care."

She turned to the piano, and began to play _The Turkish March_, by Mozart. A whole octave lower. Mr. Bradley's face contorted into panic, and shouted to be heard over the pounding music.

"What you mean "do as I like"? I need your help- I cant run the performing arts department by myself!"

"Of course. Just because you're the music teacher, its ridiculous to expect you to actually teach music."

"Be serious."

Erin stopped.

"I am." He shrank back a little at her gaze "You're on your own no matter what next year."

"Come on, at least tell me, why?"

"I'm bored." She smiled. Then began to play, the conversation was over.

This was the first day of Erin's senior year at St. Cecilia's private high school. It was a school intended for teens from the upper echelons of society, and had an unofficial reputation for the arts. One aspect of it that made it popular for students was an optional school uniform policy, one that made it popular among parents was that it had the option of boarding students there- but this was usually only used for students who came from out of state, or even country (though those were rare). Previous from going there, she had been home-schooled, and she was an off and on resident at the school. Staying when she wanted and going home as she pleased. It was her world, and she was god of it.

...

Carla stared at the white board, pretending to listen to the lecture, her thoughts elsewhere. The ghost addressed her, and though that was uncommon enough, it was more than Erin ever did. She wondered why Erin would virtually ignore her, but talk to her as the ghost. But then, she ignored everyone, for the most part. Always preoccupied with music, or her tricks.

She looked to her right, out of the window, where the gardens were green and vivid below. Erin had been wearing green that day back in freshman year, that day when they met.

Mr. Bradley had asked her to stay after school one day, a week before the winter concert. He started off civil enough, but then pushed her into a corner and asked how badly she wanted the leading solo. She, being young and naïve, stammered she wanted it more than anything. His hand was going up her thigh, when Erin, in a deep green jacket, wrenched him away with such force he tumbled to the floor. She had only glanced at her for a moment, but it was long enough to make her heart feel like bursting. Erin glared at Mr. Bradley, who shook on the floor. Then she swept out of the room, not saying a word. She ran out of the room, and searched everywhere, but she had vanished. At that moment she didn't even know her name. But since then, she had been given all the leads, and she wondered often if it was Erin's insistence (she hoped this was so), or if Mr. Bradley did it out of fear. From that day she held no illusions about who held the real power in the school.

She curled a red lock of hair around her finger.

But what did it matter? Erin had never spoken to her, outside of "the ghost", and ignored her existence. She was popular because she got all of the leads, so really Erin was to thank for everything. Since that day, she hadn't learned anything more about her that she hadn't gleaned from other students, although she had long ago made it habit to watch her as much as her schedule would allow. But…she stopped curling her hair. Erin did seem lonely. But that's all she could guess.

...

All through the first week, it was mostly settling into routines and inducting the freshmen into the ways of the school. This included most of the school's population lingering at varying intervals inside the school theater, to listen to Erin play the piano. It was the _Champs Élysées_ of St. Cecilia. Carla's clique was a constant presence, and they were nicknamed Heaven's Choir, as every one of them sung as part of musical theater or choir. The freshmen, as with everyone else, hung back near the wings or out in the audience seats from intimidation. But now and then a brave soul, trembling, would go up to Erin and say hello. They normally received a nod, if they were lucky, and as far as anyone knew it only had happened twice, she would quickly glance over _while_ nodding. Such an environment bred obsession and fanaticism. Carla was by no means the only one who's thoughts were filled with the androgyne beauty. The insidiousness of it was that Erin's allure transcended all separations of preference or sensibility.

And the ghost? Well, since the opening of the school, there had always been rumors that the theater was haunted, but it wasn't until a week into Erin's freshman year that the rumor came to life. And because Erin was in the theater more than anyone, they either assumed she was the ghost, or that she somehow had power over it or was a "friend" of it. The arguments went every which way, and strayed so far as to bring in aliens and vampires. They said the ghost ruled the school, bossing the teachers around and terrorizing students, but most dismissed this, and thought that the principal controlled things, like in a normal school. Students have always left slips of paper with requests, complaints, even confessions, for the ghost to find, one rumor being that it was the spirit of Saint Cecilia herself who haunted the building. Erin once reprimanded one and told them to quit littering the theater in the name of ridiculous superstitions. But for the past few years, the wishes would be fulfilled, so there were more than ever. The confessions grew to absurd lengths, practically leaving whole journals.

All of this was explained to the new students.

They thought it was ridiculous.

Then they would hear Erin sing, and understand everything, becoming a part of it.

The catwalk and rafters were Erin's secret place. It was above the stage that she went to be alone. There she would watch what happened below, and read. She would take notes, sometimes. Keeping track of people. She appeared to ignore everyone, but she knew them all very well. Her knowledge was greatly advanced by the letters left for "the ghost", though it bothered her a little that people would really believe some supernatural being, would not only exist, but bother to sit through the sometimes poignant, but more often repetitive writings of these adolescents. It was all vanity, really. But she wasn't complaining, she wouldn't have nearly so much power if it wasn't for "The Ghost of St. Cecilia's", as the official title went. Anyways, it was the beginning of a new year, meaning new people to record.

She put her notebook aside, and picked up Dracula. At a glance it was rather dull, unless one knew what it was really about: sex, and the victorian attitude about it. But she was more fascinated by the depiction of human duality. Dracula in the day was like any other man, walked around, had no power. At night though, he regained his abilities, and (especially at the sight of blood) he would lose himself and become an animal.

She stared off into the darkness, abandoning Dracula also. What was the point? She knew what happened. All people were generally the same. So why pay attention at all?

Because she wasn't mindless. Yes, that's right. But…in the end…why did everything feel so dull? As if she was being forced to trudge through life a second time, when she had been longing for that endless night, the one where you never have to hear the alarm buzzing in the morning, never have to see the sun rise, but have another five minutes forever. Endless night. Sometimes she shut off all of the theater lights, and would lie there in the dark and pretend it was the endless night she longed for. To think nothing, feel nothing…but that was the problem- her mind was constantly filled with thought, so that she hardly slept at all, but worked. And she didn't feel anything, not really. That wasn't correct either, if she really didn't feel anything, she would be strictly logical and wouldn't feel distressed at this. It was a heavy melancholy. But for what, she didn't know. There was no cause for this. And that was possibly the worst part, for what did she suffer? Nothing, nothing at all.

Someone entered the theater. She didn't care to look down, she could tell by the long pauses between steps that it was Carla, looking for her. But then she heard singing- Erin leapt up so quickly it caused the rafter to lurch dangerously. It was just a phrase, really, but sang with such a sweet melancholy…

"_Lost and alone in endless night…"_

Erin looked around frantically below, and slid down one of the weighted ropes, searching the theater. The voice had eluded her. She laughed._Was_ there a ghost? It was only a rhetorical question posed to herself, because she knew the truth. In those notes it seemed her very fate beckoned to her. She called out to the empty theater.

"I'll make you mine, Cecilia!"

XXXX

This was the moment Carla had been waiting for. She had finally decided that she was going to talk to Erin a week ago, and her plan had almost reached fruition. She had skipped math class, which admittedly was no great sacrifice, so she could catch Erin alone at the piano.

She opened the door as quietly as she could and tip-toed in. The theater was empty. She walked through, pausing every now and then. Being in the theater when it appears to be empty was a generally bad idea, she hoped "the ghost" wasn't feeling mischievous. Five minutes passed. Nothing. She sat on the piano bench, disappointed. She didn't bothering calling for Erin, as that hadn't ever worked before. So to pass the time, she sang, a silly little song, full of love, that she made the words up to depending upon the bent of her feelings of the moment. She paused, and heard a groan. She looked around, and then saw her and felt all the blood drain from her face. Erin was staring at her from the darkness of the left wing, yellow eyes oddly visible from the shadows. Was she that terrible?

Erin turned, and started to walk away. Carla watched, then stood up.

"Hey- wait. I came here to talk to you!"

Erin continued, Carla went after her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I said wait!"

Erin stopped and turned.

"You're not the one I'm looking for."

Her hand slipped from Erin's shoulder, Carla trembled. The first thing Erin ever says to her, and it's this! She stared at her, then bolted out through the door as fast as a bad feeling hitting your gut. She fell back against the wall once outside, in the light and air, and slid to the ground. She felt so stupid, sobbing there. She heard the disappointment in her words, the sadness in her eyes. There was no cruelty in that great gentle soul! But here she was, cast aside without reason. Who _was_ it that Erin searched for?

Erin had been through all of the choir students, none of them was the one who sang those words. She went through all of the musical theater students, even the dancers, searching for the voice. But it was nowhere. It had been two weeks since she heard it, and she wondered if she could have imagined it. Mr. Bradley was no help.

In the meantime, she found the sheet music, doing a simple internet search for lyrics based on the one line, then listened to recordings, verifying it was the same song. It was a rather simple song, mostly written for vocals and harp (though she found, interestingly, it was an aria rewritten for a musical). She converted the song easily enough to the piano, and played it constantly, experimenting with different octaves and chords, even coming up with her own variations. It was enough to satisfy her during her search.

Carla didn't think she could show her face again in the theater, but she was running out of excuses for her friends on why she couldn't hang out with them during lunch. They wouldn't buy her having tutoring for much longer, as she wasn't all that studious. She dropped her bag to the ground and rested her forehead against her locker. She regretted going that day. She remembered how Erin seemed not to see her, but rather through her, as if she wasn't there at all. She wasn't going to be able to drink white wine or champagne without crying for a while, she just knew it. She'd done it at her cousin's wedding that weekend, it was when she realized her drink (given to toast with, normally alchohol was off-limits) was the same color as Erin's eyes. This forced her to play it off as crying from happiness. She was _not_ that sentimental. And her Aunt was getting married in two weeks. She sighed, and opened her locker.

Inside was quite possibly the largest rose she'd ever seen, as big as her hand, with fingers spread out. White as morning frost, the bloom crowned a delicate long stem that was a light green, accenting the white. It was in a crystal vase, simple and un-faceted.

There was a special delight at being surprised with such beauty, and she felt the swooning sensation of glee, like a child feels when presented with that dazzling new toy. There was a small note card, and in it was puzzlingly bad lettering in red ink: E.L.

For, Erin Lavey. Obviously.

Carla was still reluctant to go in, though she wanted to, desperately. It had to be when she would have a chance to catch her alone. Once more her math class was deprived of her presence.

She entered the same way, and just as carefully. This time Erin was there, playing. Thin body bent over the keys, music furiously burning the air, the energy of it infected her. She ran up to the piano, but Erin kept on, not looking at her.

"Erin!"

She stopped.

Carla felt her heart pounding was loud enough to wake the dead.

"Skipping class isn't going to win you favors." then Erin looked at her, and grinned "Unless it's math, of course."

Carla felt like melting into the floor, pleasantly disturbed by Erin's dead eyes, not matching her generous smile, and her uncanny knowledge of her schedule and locker combination. She collapsed on the piano bench, her legs shaking so badly she couldn't have kept standing anyways. Erin studied her, causing her to fidget and she could feel the blood rushing to her face and turning her as red as her hair. Erin lowered her eyes and turned back to the keys, and played _Fur Elise._ She finished and was beginning another when Carla spoke up.

"Wait. I came here to talk to you."

"Well, spit it out, little lady."

Erin glanced at her. Carla stood up, and paced around the side of the piano, not able to be still.

"I, uh, well, I want to…" she stared at the floor. "Aren't you lonely?"

The piano bench scuffed the floor , giving a brief screech with Erin's jolt.

_"What?"_

Carla looked up,

"I mean, everyone knows its you who runs the performing arts department, and I thought maybe you could use a helping hand," she paced a little more "All of my life I've been taught by the best in the field, so we both know music well, and I know who among the new students are talented, and I was just thinking, maybe…I could, you know, help."

Erin laughed.

"I'm afraid, little diva, that your head is a little big. I know how you are around the others. I'm afraid Everyone is inferior in your eyes, and thus you would be poor help indeed. You might just _suggest_ yourself for everything."

It was true, Carla was the school diva, and she acted like it. Abusing the admiration others had for her as part of her being preference for performances, thwarting freshmen who tried to get a little farther ahead than she was comfortable with, and so on. She didn't know how to respond to this.

"Thank you for the rose!"

Erin smiled, almost ruefully.

"I have no use for flowers, except to give them away…beauty only has value if it can be made to delight another." Carla nodded. Erin continued, "Do you sing to raise the souls of others, or to show off your voice?"

"I don't sing just to show off my voice, I…like people enjoying my voice."

"Of course." She played the beginning of _Somewhere Above the Sun Shines Bright_ "Do you know this song?"

"No."

"That's just as well." the bell rang for the next class "Go on, little diva, come back when you have learned to _sing_, for the right reasons, rather than your act of strutting upon the stage."

"Wait- What? Erin," Carla leaned against the piano, towards her "I sing for the right reasons-" Erin stood up.

"You're going to be late for class."

"I, I…" Carla knew she wasn't getting anywhere, and Erin was right. About her class that is. "I'll see you later."

When she was gone, Erin dropped her forehead onto the keys, discordant notes in the chord of 'C Major' sounding.

"Idiot!"


	4. Christine!

Erin was leaning blithely in the doorway, almost a thin shadow, the light of the room peeking into the darkness of the theater behind her. The yearly negotiations had already begun for Erin. She remained, always, a string-puller.

"Just please help me-" Mr. Bradley furtively glanced at the empty room. "I don't know what I'm doing!"

"Indeed." She said.

Mr. Bradley was the music teacher, although he seemed all too young for the post, and was clearly inexperienced. Even Erin was unsure of how he managed to weasel into such a prestigous position, for his lack of ability was entirely appalling at times- and she would tell him so. However, since her freshman year it had only been good luck for her that it happened as it did. She made the lessons, she arranged the concerts, she conducted rehearsals, she secretly watched from the rafters at auditions. And she love, love, loved the control.

"How could I know? You run everything like a phantom watch, time ticks, but the gears aren't visible. As you know, I'll give you anything you want. Show me the gears or run it for me."

"Or I could let time stop."

Mr. Bradley looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, then at her. He slumped in his chair at his desk, crinkling his white shirt and plain black suit. He looked like an accountant, and out of place.

"You are infuriating sometimes." He said. Erin smiled, and his face softened "But I can't stay angry- you are too perfect." He sat down behind his desk "Who else have you tormented with your beauty?"

"No one. All who are tormented bring misery upon themselves with their act of obsessing."

"Isn't there anything you want?"

"I want the singer."

Oh, the voice you heard in the theater…"

"Yes, with her this year could be greater than any other." She strolled to a chair in front of Mr. Bradley's desk and fell into it, arm hooked over the back. She crossed her ankle over her knee, like a man. "But otherwise my motivation is nonexistent."

"I hope she turns up."

Mr. Bradley watched her as she walked out the door and was swallowed by the absence of light. He thought she was wonderful.

XXXX

Lunch. In the theater. The usual, everyone is revolving around Erin, who was at the piano, as always. Carla walks up to the piano, wanting everyone to see Erin address her, her friends lingering near behind. Only a few turned their heads, but everyone was watching, over their shoulders, through the corner of their eye, through the hair that hung in their face. No one expected Erin to greet her, they just wondered at Carla's audacity of clearly expecting that outcome.

"Hi Erin!" She smiled broadly.

Erin nodded, without a word or glance.

"Hello!" Carla said again.

This time she was ignored, the loud notes of the beginning of another song cutting off further opportunity for speech. Carla turned and civilly walked across the stage. Diana and Arielle walked on either side.

"Senior year…and she still ignores us!" Diana said, her blonde bob swinging as she looked back.

"She didn't ignore us, per se Diana. She did nod." Arielle said.

"A slight improvement from last year." Diana said.

"Why does she ignore me!" Carla whined, as soon as they had reached the other side of the stage, she turned to look back at Erin, but her view was obstructed by Michael and Tyler.

"She's crazy not to notice someone as hot as yourself." Michael said.

"Oh stop it." Carla said, sitting down, back to the wall.

"Why don't you stop trying to catch the eye of someone who's clearly blind, and hang out with someone who appreciates your attentions?" Michael said, sitting next to her.

"Like me." Tyler said, gesturing to himself. He and the girls sat. Meg and Ronnie were next to them, talking to one of the new students, who had come from the public school system.

"Hey!" Michael protested, grinning.

" What-ever." Carla rolled her eyes.

"I thought you liked me! Am I not good enough, or are you just playing hard to get?" Tyler wiggled his eyebrows in a cheesy seductive manner. Carla snorted, Diana laughed.

"Uh, let's just say you two aren't my type." Carla said, after she and Diana had quit giggling. Arielle was drawn into Meg and Ronnie's discussion. Michael put his hand on Tyler's shoulder and spoke in a mock-serious tone.

"That's right Tyler, Carla Tawson prefers pianists with yellow eyes and dashing figures."

Carla gasped and swatted him across the arm.

"Shut up!"

"Say it isn't true." Tyler said, leaning towards her, eyebrow comically raised. Diana sighed.

"Leave her alone boys."

Erin began playing the song of the voice.

They turned their attention to the other members of their group, the new girl they had been talking to and stood up.

"Go for it!" Meg called after her. The girl took a few steps.

And sang.

"_Somewhere above the sun-"_

Erin jolted and her fingers spasmed, drawing everyone's attention with the harsh sound and the following silence.

Erin paused, it was the voice! It had taken a moment for it to register that it was really her singing. Right there behind her, the one who eluded her for all of these weeks.

She bent her head, and started the song again.

"Continue." She commanded.

To her relief, the sweet voice rose again, the girl's nervousness apparent at first, but then fading.

"_Somewhere above the sun shines bright,  
People stroll in the open air,  
Somewhere above in a summer sky,  
Birds spread their wings and fly,  
Lost and alone in endless night,  
Could one imagine so dire a plight?  
In the darkness I cry like a child,  
Like a child I cry my lonely prayer,  
Somewhere above soft breezes blow,  
Clouds float in a lazy sky_

_Somewhere above me strangers meet,_

_Lovers share a sigh,  
Lost and alone in endless night,  
Could one imagine so dire a plight?  
In the darkness I cry like a child,  
Yes, like a child,  
My lonely prayer I cry,  
Ah! My, my prayer."_

Erin finished the last two notes, and those in the theater applauded. Erin paused, and then stood up. The applause began to die. She turned around.

"Christine…!"

It had fled her lips without command. There was the girl, and she was of so light color that she appeared ethereal under the stage lighting. Her shining blonde hair, which was possibly quite long, was carefully pinned into a large and messy bun at the nape of her neck. Looking at her, Erin had an uncomfortable twisting in her gut, the sight of her already felt like the dearest thing in the world. Students crowded around the angel, for hearing her and looking upon her, it was really the only thing she could be.

But they were looking at Erin, and then at the girl, a few asked her:

"Oh, do you know Erin?"

"Who?" they pointed. Erin stepped up to the group.

_Christine_ looked over at her, and her mouth opened to say something, but stopped. She stepped back, eyes never leaving Erin's. Erin bowed her head.

"Hello. Is it…Christine?"

"Yes."

She fidgeted under Erin's steady gaze.

"I hope you will join choir. Your voice is exquisite."

Christine nodded slowly. Erin stared a moment longer, then looked down.

"Well, it was nice to meet you…" She turned, looking back briefly, and disappeared into the left wing.

Christine! There was now a name and face to her fixation, and instead of this quelling her obsession, it grew. It was so puzzling, so new. How did she know her name? It had surprised herself to hear her own voice put so much emotional emphasis on two syllables. She didn't know her, but it_felt_ like it. And it drew her to her all the more. She felt the world spinning around her head as she climbed the ladder high above the stage. Was this…was this what it felt like to fall in love? She had read plenty of romance, and had watched plenty of lovers, but this was so overwhelming!

Erin reached the rafters and walked along, watching the students, who were still standing around Christine. She leaned against the rail, listening carefully to each word.

"Wow, Erin doesn't talk to anyone."

"Really?" Christine put a hand to her mouth "What year is he?"

"He's a senior."

"Ohhhh. Like me." She smiled.

Erin hung her head, and resisted the urge to chuckle. She often forgot that most of the school was in fact uncertain of her gender. They switched pronouns often, as no one knew for sure, as no one had the guts to ask! It was sort of a running gag among those who knew to let new students, _especially girls_, think she was a man. Not that she minded, and Christine was case-in-point.

Of course, she was going to have to do something about this. Eventually.

But for now, now that she had found her, she would watch.

XXXX

Christine entered the choir room, which was connected to the theater. Mr. Bradley was sitting behind his desk, reading. She brushed a few loose strands falling from her bun back behind her ear. Mr. Bradley noticed her, and stood up.

"Hello, Miss…Dane, is it?" He offered his hand, she limply shook his hand.

"Yes, are you the music teacher?"

"Yup, that's me. So where are you transferring from?"

"Oh, Sierra High…it's a public school, down south."

"Oh." he put the book on his desk, face down and open "Well, I'm glad you decided to join us for your last year, talent and beauty are always welcome."

The bell rang, and the other students shuffled in. Christine waited, but Aaron (Erin) didn't show up. She had been hoping he had the same class, and thinking that's why he asked her to join. She didn't think he was real when she first turned her head, she couldn't have imagined anyone better looking. She almost wanted to say she was glad she came here after all, but…_stop right there!_ She didn't need to cry right here, in the middle of class.

They went through warm ups, exercises, and Meg, the first person to say hello to her, filled her in on what was going on and brought her the sheet music. Christine just liked Meg. She was funny and a tiny bit morbid, but not really crazy like some of the theater kids, and she wasn't so…well, weird, like Carla. She was flattered that the most popular girl in the school wanted to be friends with her after hearing her sing, but all she seemed to want to talk about, and everyone else really, was Aaron. Apparently she had also caught the eye of the most popular guy. She liked hearing the stories about him, and there were some strange rumors too…but no one had even asked her if she liked the school so far, or how old she was! She was surrounded by people, but no one was there for _her. _She was engulfed in the shadow of Aaron and Carla. She wondered if they had a thing once. Another reason she like Meg, and even Ronnie, was because they had just sat with her, and talked to her as an individual with thoughts and feelings, independent of anyone else. She hoped they became good friends.

Meg smiled at her.

"You okay?"

"What? Oh, yeah."

"Oh, you just looked spaced out there for a second. Thought maybe something was on your mind."

"I'm just hungry."

Meg giggled.

"Is that all you think about, Christine?"

"Yes."

"You're as bad as Ronnie."

They had to stop talking, as Mr. Bradley looked in their direction. Now, that she thought about it, Ronnie was pretty cute too. Personality cute. He was dorky, and fun to be around. He was from the theater class. Good thing, because he couldn't sing at all! He tried to do an impersonation of how great Christine was, and it was _less_ than flattering. But she laughed. But sometimes when she was talking to him, and he would laugh, she never knew if it was at what she said or at her. Other times, he would hold open doors for her, and bring her lunch, so she wouldn't have to stand in line (she still paid for her own food though). He was confusing. Maybe playing so many different people muddled up his own personality. He already had a girlfriend though, but it was in name only. She was in choir also, and blonde, like her. He tried to sit with her, but it was she who avoided him, but then… Christine blushed a little in memory. She had glimpsed them doing _it_ inside an empty stall. Yesterday. Well, okay, she only saw their feet, and she had left as soon as she heard them- she was groaning his name, that's how she knew. They were almost adults now, so she guessed she shouldn't be all _that_ shocked. Oh well.

The bell rang for lunch, and she walked out with everyone else. Then she realized she had forgotten her sheet music. She told Meg she be back in a minute and went back. Mr. Bradley was out to lunch too, the room was empty. Christine stopped her sheet music on the floor, and picked it up. How silly of her to forget it there! She turned to leave, then noticed the door connecting the choir room to the theater wings was open, and the theater lit. She could hear the piano music, playing _"Somewhere Above…", _just beyond. It couldn't hurt to just peek, to say hello.

She walked through the door, and looked out to the stage. The music was still going, but there was no one at the piano. Clutching her bag, she slowly walked towards the piano, expecting some sort of trick. The back of her neck tingled. She reached the end of the piano, and the music stopped. Christine looked around, seeing no one. She walked to the keys, and saw nothing there. A voice whispered in her ear.

"What a pleasure."

She gasped and spun around, no one was behind her. She heard laughter, she looked back, and Aaron was leaning against the body of the piano!

"You look positively terrified."

Christine felt it again. That creeping terror, that allure. Something about Aaron. His expression changed, and lowered his head, still looking at her.

"Please don't be afraid. I just…" he walked a little closer "I think your voice is, well, like an angel's. And forgive me, I don't mean to offend you, but though sweet your voice is…it is clear that you are untrained." his fingers tapped the top of the piano, but his eyes, yellow eyes, didn't stray from her. "I would like to teach you, if you would permit me the honor."

Christine opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a long, elegant hand.

"You don't have to decide right now. Just, when you're ready, I'll be here."

The other theater door opened, in the other wing, and Christine turned to see everyone flood in. She looked back at Aaron- but he was gone. She put her hand on top of the piano where his hand been. Meg ran up behind her.

"There you are! How did you get in here?"

Christine looked back at her.

"What do you mean? I went through the door."

"All the doors were locked! They just opened right now, like someone unlocked them all at once. Did you unlock the doors?"

"No…" They both looked around. Christine started to believe a little more when her classmates began blaming things on the ghost.

Erin didn't play at the piano for two weeks. She was too occupied with following Christine around, not even just inside the theater. But in class, at break, for two weeks she became the angel's shadow. The teacher's didn't notice her missing, as she didn't have any classes for them this year, or the year before. She had technically finished high school in her sophomore year. The student's definitely noticed her gone, and most idly searched the school, most sat in the theater and stared at the piano, talking about the day's affairs. Erin locked up the theater from outside access after the second week.

Erin learned a bit about Christine. Like that she avoided talking about exactly why she transferred to this school, or about her father. She had been in the public school system her whole life previous to now. She was formally quite poor (obviously, if she went to a public school). But what was really intriguing was that she was one of the boarded students. Christine, Ronnie, and Meg were outside in the school courtyard when that came up.

"Oh, you live at the school?" Meg said.

"That's cool, can I visit?" Ronnie said. Meg punched him. "What!"

"Um, yeah, I live here."

"Why?" Ronnie said.

"Well, it was just the best option."

"Does your family live far away?" Meg said.

"Not exactly…" Christine lowered her eyes, then turned to dig through her bag, for something, anything.

"Are you one of _those _kids?" Meg said, more quietly.

"What?" Christine stammered.

"One of those who are sent to live at school because they're not wanted at home." Ronnie explained.

"No, it's not that, it's just…" Christine whispered "I have nowhere else _to_ live."

"Oh." Ronnie and Meg said, looking at one another.

"You can talk to us," Ronnie began. Christine got up and left. "…if you want."

Meg hit him again.

"God, you are so tactless!"

"What did I say?"

xxxx

Christine ran into the performing arts center, then stopped once inside. She had forgotten the doors were locked. But there was a sign on the door:

_Christine, the theater is open. Please lock the door behind you. E.L._

Who was "E.L."? She took the sign and entered, wiping her eyes. Locking the door behind her, she saw Aaron waiting for her at the piano. He stood to greet her.

"I'm glad you've chosen to come." Christine dropped her things "Is something wrong?"

Christine looked down, clutching the paper. She shook her head.

"No…w-who is E.L?"

"I am. I'm afraid I never actually introduced myself. I'm Erin Lavey." Christine didn't look up "E-r-i-n, La-v-e-y."

Christine trembled, and turned around.

"I'm sorry-" She choked, "I didn't mean to let you see…"

She took a feeble step toward the wing, then a cry burst from her. She stumbled forward, sobbing. Erin caught her by the wrist, and pulled her back. He held her just short of himself, and sat her down on the piano bench. A handkerchief appeared in his hand, which he held out to her at arm's length. She took it. He was staring at her again. The only thing being expressive were his eyes, the rest of his face was blank. Such sad eyes. She was able to speak a little, sobs subsiding.

"Sorry about that, coming in here and bawling like that."

"No. You can cry here." He turned and gestured to the whole theater. "No one will bother you here."

She began to cry again, Erin looked back at her. He stood by the piano and sang, low and soft. It was close and intimate, coming from only his direction. He was singing an old lullaby, sad and wordless. Christine curled up on the bench, and wept.

After a while, Erin realized Christine had fallen asleep. She stopped singing, and walked next to the bench, watching her. Christine's bun had come undone and long, blonde tresses hung from the bench and almost touched the floor. When she had pulled Christine back from stumbling to the floor, she had wanted to hold her. To comfort her. But she had overlooked a little detail: the brace she wore under her shirt to flatten her chest. Her thin clothes would allow it to be felt immediately. Before it was never a problem, as there was no need to conceal her gender. Why did it matter now, when it never had with other girls she had chased (there were others, but it was mostly diversion)? She could lie, of course. Say she was germ phobic, or something-no, that wouldn't do. She sighed. Christine still clutched Erin's handkerchief in her hands. Erin noted Christine always wore black, like her. But it was not Christine's nature to wear it for the sake of the color. She mourned for someone.

The end-of-lunch bell rang.

Christine groaned and opened her eyes.

"What's your next class?" Erin asked.

"Math, pre-calculus."

"Teacher?"

"Uh, Mr. Soberolski…" She sat up, "What for?" Erin was gone.

Then he reappeared.

"Don't worry about your next class, you can stay here the rest of the day."

Christine rubbed her face, looking at the ground.

"Oh, but I have a test today!" She groaned, putting her head in her hands.

"Which you are in no condition to take." Erin sat next to her, "And which you are not ever taking."

"What?"

"Our teachers are very understanding."

"Thank you."

Erin stared at her.

"Of course."

Christine looked down.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I was crying?"

"No." Christine looked at him, "If you wanted me to know, you would've told me."

Christine began to laugh.

"Of course, you wouldn't ask. Its so fitting."

"How?"

"You're just saying that, so I'll tell you." Christine's hand flew to her mouth, "I didn't mean that…I'm sorry. I'm just upset."

Erin remained largely expressionless.

"I said it because there are things that people, if they really care about you, will not feel the need to pry into, but that _will_ be there to listen if you do decide to speak of it."

Christine felt her face flush a little.

"Do _you_ have things like that?"

"Everyone does."

"I want to tell you. That's why it's ironic. Everyone else asks about it, but you're the one I want to tell everything to." She looked at her hands. "We've just met, sort of, so why is it that I trust you so much already?"

"Well, Romeo and Juliet fell in love in an instant. Our time together is an eternity in comparison." Erin chuckled. "...but we're not falling in love, are we?"

Christine's head snapped up, but Erin turned around to the piano keys, and continued speaking.

"Since we are here, we can begin lessons. So please stand up, so I can assess you."

"Oh-okay!" She obeyed.

Erin glanced at her once, before starting the scales. She shivered at the look in Christine's eyes, what shade of adoration was that? Now she couldn't go back if she wanted to. Erin felt an odd ominous feeling come over her. _C'est la vie._

After school, Erin offered to walk Christine home.

"Where do you live?"

"Oh…here at school."

"Me too."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I can go home if I feel like it."

"You mean, you choose to live here?"

"There's not much to be home for…"

"Oh."

They walked along the school property, Erin was carrying Christine's bag. It was late autumn, so the leaves of the trees were all of the colors of fire, and night crept into the sky a little sooner. Erin gestured to a particularly fantastic tree, with leaves in every shade between yellow and red.

"Look how it looks like an impressionist's view of fire."

"Wow, it really does. I wonder why the leaves turn color."

"The chlorophyll in the leaves, which is what makes the leaves green and turns sunlight into food, dies at this time of the year."

"Oh yeah…they talked about that in biology. I feel stupid."

"No. You forgot. That's all."

Christine looked down and smiled.

They came to a small, squat, two story building. The girls dorms. The boys were on the other side of the campus. The school didn't have that many boarders, as obvious by the size of the building. Erin followed Christine up the stairs, she pulled the key out of her pocket. They stopped in front of the first door, and Christine opened the door. She entered and looked back.

"Um…would you like to come in?"

"No, that's alright. I'd better go to my own room, you know, before curfew."

Christine took her bag from Erin and put it down next to her desk.

"That's right…the boy's dorm is all the way…I shouldn't have let you walk me home- you'll be late."

Erin leaned in the doorway.

"Oh, it's all right. I never get in trouble anyways."

Christine moved to open her curtains, letting in the dying light.

"I like to watch the night sky. Me and my Dad used to go up in the mountains to see the full night sky, in the city you can't see all of the stars…" She looked at Erin, "That's why I live here. It's not because my family didn't want me…it's because I don't have a family. My Dad died." Then she turned her face abruptly away. "He…"

Erin said nothing, but watched her from the door.

"Do you want me to come in?"

Christine looked at him, outlined by the dying sun. A dark silhouette in her doorway, with luminous yellow eyes. Her eyes shined.

"Please."


	5. The Prima Donna?

Christine sat on her bed, and put her head in her hands. Erin closed the door and locked it. He sat on the edge of the chair by the desk, turning it to face her.

"My Dad died, so I could come to this school." Her hands through her hair, and she stared at the floor "My senior year was starting, and he had always wanted me to come here…so he…he…" Christine's voice became a whisper "He overdosed on his medication, after I had fallen asleep…I found his letter in the morning." Her eyes were wide, and she trembled again, trying to hold in her sobs. "He…said he was a failure!" She began to cry. "But I failed him- I never told him just how much I loved him, he didn't have too do _this_…what in the world….what makes me deserving!"

She sat up and looked at Erin, the fading sunlight filling her face with shadows. Her face was flushed and tear-streaked. Christine's eyes were round with longing, and her lip trembled. Erin had his eyes closed and hands entwined, but she knew he was listening by the tilt of his head.

"Christine…?" He opened his eyes, those eyes of white wine.

She looked away, out the window. "I'm afraid I've never been good at comforting people." He moved to sit on the bed by her, "But your father loved you, and he wanted to prove it…unfortunately he chose something that only hurt you."

Looking back at him, her eyes gleaned over with tears. She hugged him, Erin stiffened in her embrace. She drew back immediately-

"I'm sorry-"

Erin pulled her back. He looked out the window from over her head.

"No. It's not you." She sighed into his chest, little tremors going through her body. "You're shivering."

"It's n-not because I'm cold." The shaking grew until he could hear her sobbing again, "I'm sorry- I know this isn't how you wanted to spend your evening." She looked up, her voice becoming a harsh whisper _"The funeral was only back in September!" _Erin could feel her fingers claw a little into his back, "He'd had only been dead two weeks before I started coming here- it was so hard, everyone wanting to talk to me, and asking about my _hobbies_, and where I came from- and all I wanted to do was punch them in their stupid smiling faces and scream! My Dad is dead, and they want to know if I like it here- I _hate_ this place, because of this place, HE LEFT ME!" She wept. "He left me…he left me…"

Erin ran a hand through her long hair, petting the silken locks, and began to hum softly. Then sing. Christine drew her knees up on the bed, moving to make herself more comfortable. Erin watched the sun set, then disappear, leaving the room in darkness. But then the night revealed it's splendor, no longer being upstaged by light. Erin paused.

"Look, the night is beautiful."

No response. Erin looked down at Christine, and saw she had fallen asleep. Erin sighed. She slowly moved Christine off of her, and lay her upon the bed. She drew up the covers. Now what? She sat back in the chair and stared at Christine's face, illuminated by the soft starlight. Poor, unhappy child. At least she had serenity in sleep.

She turned around to the desk and looked for a pen and a piece of paper, and wrote a brief note:

_Good morning…I hope you slept well. See you for lessons. E.L._

Erin frowned at her handwriting, even in the dark she could see that it was remarkably childish. It was the only thing she just couldn't master. Infuriating. She left the note on the desk, and looking at Christine a little longer, she left, door locked behind her.

She slipped away from the girls dorms. Obviously she didn't live in the boys dorms, nor would she want to, her room was isolated. Fifteen minutes later she entered the theatre, and climbed up to the rafters. Then she went to the back right corner to where there was another ladder, and climbed upwards for a minute before lifting herself through a hole in the ceiling. She stood in one of the two storage rooms, the other one was underneath the stage and full of lighting equipment. This was where the old backdrops and various odd items were stored, and no one thought it worth coming up here anymore- so Erin took it as her room, and no one's ever known the difference. It didn't bother her to sleep or live so high up. The floor was sturdy. And no one would ever disturb her here. It was her _home._

_XXXXX_

The sunlight woke her up, and she felt disoriented and dizzy as she sat up. _Where…what…_ then she remembered. She drew up her knees, and let her head fall back. What in the world had she been thinking- letting a _guy_ into her room that late in the evening? If Erin was the type to take advantage of such a situation….but he wasn't, and he hadn't. In fact, he almost pushed her away when she had impulsively hugged him in neediness. Her face flushed, and crushing embarrassment filled her. She had bared her soul, asked him into her room, fell asleep in his arms- what if he thought she was throwing herself at him? The accompanying thought pushed rudely into her mind- _You were hoping he would._

She was just lonely, surely he would understand that…but he wasn't here. He could've at least said bye. She turned red- of course he couldn't have stayed until the morning, he knew what everyone would've thought if he walked out of a girls room in the morning. Then she noticed the note on the desk, and grabbed it, reading it. She smiled. The sloppy handwriting was cute from someone so talented. She could almost hear him speaking it softly, in her ear, as they woke up….she laughed in embarrassment to the empty room. _I'm being silly._ What in the world was wrong with such normal, little fantasies? She really shouldn't get so embarrassed. She folded the note and realized she was still in the same clothes as yesterday. She groaned.

_Erin Lavey, Erin Lavey._ Christine was doodling the name absentmindedly. She initially thought it was spelled Aaron, but Erin was nice in a way. It was an odd name for a guy though, as that was supposed to be the girl spelling. Maybe his parents wanted to be unique. Or were just weird. But she liked it anyways, because it was _his _name.

Ronnie was staring at her, again. As he had been doing every English class for the past week. It was a little disturbing, but it was a little exciting. Or rather, something to distract her from her inner turmoils. She smiled at him, but then immediately regretted it, and didn't look at him again all period.

The bell for break rang, and she gathered her things slowly, and was the last out of the room- almost. Ronnie was standing in the doorway. An image of Erin's silhouette in her doorway flashed through her mind, and she smiled involuntarily. There was no comparison. But Ronnie thought her smile was for him and smiled back at her.

"How are ya this morning, Christy?"

"Fine, yourself?" She was waiting for him to move.

"Wonderful." His eyes softened, running over her face. She squirmed.

"Can you move please?"

"Of course," He did so, and she walked out. He fell into step beside her. "Are you going to homecoming?"

"Nope."

"What! Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"Aw, come on, it'll be fun. It's a good way to make friends. Meet people. Mingle."

Christine spotted Meg, and they waved to one another. Meg ran up.

"Hi Christine!"

"Hey Meg, how are you?"

"Good- you? Hey Ronnie."

"Fine."

"Hey." Ronnie replied, sullen.

Christine noticed that Ronnie and his "girlfriend" no longer even looked at one another. He was twice as sweet to her than before. But Meg took out a lot of his fire by lightly ridiculing his overwhelming romanticism. Christine was grateful, but didn't say anything, laughing politely.

Lunch time, Christine practically ran to the theatre after getting her food from the cafeteria. Ronnie and Meg shrugged at each other in her wake. Christine entered the theatre and Erin was there, waiting.

They didn't speak much during lessons, then or after school. And it continued in this fashion for the next few weeks, the lack of conversation being of relief and comfort to them both. Christine was often so nervous that she wouldn't have known what to say even if Erin did speak to her. It was something she liked. Everyone else seemed to do nothing but talk. But here in the theatre, there was only music. Every lunch, each day after the school day had ended, they sang together, and nothing else.

Erin would occasionally walk her home, but only when it was late enough in the day that most of the other students were inside. He would say goodnight to her at the door, and leave for the night.

The best part was that her voice felt stronger than ever and seemed to soar effortlessly through high notes. She no longer was tired after several hours of singing, and her throat was never sore. Erin was a strict teacher, and so these improvements were the result largely of rules about what she could eat and drink, and how much of it she could have, about sleep, and how she used her voice. She thought it a little ridiculous, but she knew she wasn't getting results with what she had been doing, so she trusted whatever he told her.

This was the routine.

XXXXX

Erin slipped into Mr. Bradley's classroom. He looked up immediately.

"I've found our star." she said.

"I know."

"We'll have Christine as our leading soloist for the winter concert, and make sure that-"

"Wait a minute!" Mr. Bradley stood up, "You left me to fry, and now, just because you're interested again, you think you can take control?"

"Are you saying you want to run the program by yourself?"

Erin took a step back.

"NO." Mr. Bradley reached out, she stopped. "No, I'm happy you've changed your mind- the program is a mess, nothing has been organized. I don't know the first thing about running a concert. Please."

"Of course."

"So then, what about Carla, our previous soloist?"

"Make her secondary, her voice will go well along with Christine's."

Mr. Bradley sat back down and chuckled.

"Our ex-diva _will not be happy_, you know."

"She was out-sung, and there is no shame in that, except perhaps for her lack of devotion to art for it's own sake. Rather than self-glorification."

"Whatever you say, just remember, I warned you…" he paused, "And are you sure you want to replace her with Christine?"

"What do you mean?"

"I know she can sing, I can hear her in the theater with you at lunch- but when she isn't with you, something is missing. It's like the soul is missing, the emotion is drained out of her voice…" He looked at Erin warily.

"Thank you," she bowed her head, "for alerting me of this issue." She moved towards the door, "I'll give you your directions tomorrow, leave the rest to me."

XXXXX

Erin resumed following Christine around when she wasn't with her in the theatre. In music class she discovered that Mr. Bradley had been telling the truth, Christine's voice was still lovely, but it had no feeling, which made it horrible to hear, being all sound and no substance. When Christine entered the theater after school on Friday, she knew something was up, because Erin was standing in the middle of the stage, rather than seated at the piano. He turned that perfect face towards her, expressionless, as always. It was his voice that communicated emotion, and it was more serious than was custom.

"Mr. Bradley has announced the upcoming winter concert, and the auditions for placement within it today."

"Yes." She left her things on the side of the stage and walked towards Erin.

"You will audition, of course, and be placed as lead soloist."

"Me?" Christine looked down, "I don't know- there are many other good singers, who've all been longer than me…" She looked up at Erin, who was looking at her as he always did. She stammered "I'm not naïve- I know how these programs tend to be run, especially by a teacher as young as Mr. Bradley. The favorites run the show. I don't stand a chance against them."

"You are the lead soloist."

"How are you so confident?"

Erin laughed softly.

"Because, _I_ am the favorite." He walked towards the piano "Despite what delusions some of the other singers may have…Mr. Bradley doesn't run the show, so kissing up to him is a waste of time."

Christine stared, he sat at the piano. He looked back, expecting her to follow.

"That's so strange. I've never heard of a guy being the favorite."

"Don't you believe you're good enough to be my _prima donna_?"

"I hope so."

Christine walked over and leaned against the piano.

"You don't sing the same way out of here as you do with me."

Christine looked down.

"Oh-I was hoping it was just my imagination!"

"Your voice lacks feeling, has it always been this way?"

"No, in fact, I was always complimented on how much spirit I had when I sang…this is recent. Since my Dad…"

"It's understandable. You only need to remember your love for music. For singing." Christine nodded, eyes watery. Erin touched her face with the back of his fingers. "Let's begin the scales."

They resumed the routine.

XXXX

Erin had just said goodnight to Christine, and was leaving the girl's dorms, when she decided tonight she would visit the house she grew up (or home, though the use of the word didn't feel genuine) in for the weekend. She called Gerard, the family chauffeur, to take her home.

XXXX

Erin arrived home at 4:00pm, and when the door was opened for her, she called out;

"Mother, Father- it's Erin."

Her father, Josiah, appeared at the top of the stair way immediately, and rushed down.

"I would know that voice anywhere-" He reached her "your mother is still sleeping, but she'll be down for dinner." Erin nodded. They walked down the hall to the living room in silence, Josiah watching her carefully. "She wishes you would visit more often."

Josiah sat on the couch, Erin sat on the adjoining loveseat. The room was warm, and smelled of jasmine, from the candles. Erin was merely observing the room, reclining in the chair like the place belonged to her. Josiah moved a little closer in her direction.

"So, how's school?"

"Wonderful." She looked at him, "This time I mean it."

"Good! What's the reason?"

"Oh, nothing in particular, it's just senior year, so everything is roses."

"Oh yeah," he laughed, but it weakened when she didn't return it, he coughed. "Yeah, I remember my senior year, good times. Especially the dances." He looked away. "I remember your mother was so beautiful on Prom night. I actually tripped walking her to the car, I couldn't look away."

Erin was paying attention to him now, he sighed.

"How did you meet?"

He laughed again, but ruefully.

"I've told you that story so many times."

"Please. I like it."

He looked at her, then smiled.

"Okay, for you. Well, it was the beginning of senior year, in October, and I was playing the guitar- I know I'm old cuz I can't even remember what I was playing- and I was just sitting out under a tree in front of the school. Then I hear this pretty little voice singing Let It Be, and she walks in front of me- the sun was behind her and so it lit up her blonde hair so she was positively glowing. I thought she was an angel sent by God just for me, who knew how much I liked The Beatles." He paused, remembering. "So I started playing that song on my guitar, and we sang together…" he looked down "That was the moment we met, everything after that is history." He sighed. "Please don't ask me to ever tell this again. It was too long ago."

Erin stood up.

"Thank you Father. I'm going to look around the house." She turned, Josiah stood up and moved to go with her.

"Wait for me!"

Erin looked back, and Josiah stopped.

"I wish to take my own trip down memory lane, alone. I'll be back for dinner."

He slumped back onto the couch, watching her leave.

The first place she went to was the music hall. She looked over all of her old instruments, touching each one. She stopped at an old baby grand piano, with it's white lacquer peeling. She sat on the little bench, and played, as she did twelve years ago. She still remembered that day- when she remembered music. She knew the story of how she had just started playing, without ever being taught. Music was innate within her. It was her soul. When she sat at the piano for the first time, it was like being born, like coming back to life. She didn't even remember anything before then. She stopped, running a hand over the top lovingly. Her first memory.

Erin left the music hall, thinking to herself she had to play everything in it at least once before the end of the weekend. She walked by the curtains she used to draw shut and scare her playmates with. Then she went to her old room, which was left untouched, available to her always. She opened the door, and found someone waiting for her there. Amelia.

Erin didn't really notice her, as she was always drawing in her room, or something, and normally stayed hidden. So she got to really get a look at her, and she noted her growth. Amelia was now eleven, if Erin remembered correctly. Amelia's hair had lightened over the years to a sandy blonde, and she was taller- now she was only two, three inches from Erin's shoulder. Just hitting puberty, she was already more womanly in appearance, and Erin smiled at this, as that said more about her than Amelia. But this didn't bother her, it was more amusing than anything.

Amelia started at Erin's smile, involuntarily stepping back. She wore a thin blue sweater over a white sun dress. How pretty. Erin continued to stare at her, without saying anything, closing the door behind her without looking back.

"Hello Amelia." She said slowly.

"I-I know I shouldn't be in here, but I wanted to see you, well, I mean, I wanted you to see me."

"Please," Erin gestured to the bed. "have a seat."

Amelia did so, and Erin brought over the chair from her old vanity, placing it by the bed. She sat in it and propped her feet up on the bed, crossing her ankles. Amelia clasped her hands together.

"I'm glad you came." Amelia said. "You always remember my birthday."

"What would you like this year?"

"I want to hear you sing."

"But you can hear me sing anytime you like."

"No- I want you to sing a secret song- that only you and I know. Just for me, and no one else ever again."

"Okay."

"How is school?"

"Oh, why would you want to know about that? It's a rather droll place."

"Please?"

Erin chuckled.

"Well, the winter concert is coming up."

"Oh really? Is Carla going to be singing?" Amelia asked for stories about Erin's life at school whenever she visited, and had been there herself once. So she was fairly acquainted with the faces of the people Erin talked of, and Amelia was simply enchanted by St. Cecilia's.

"Yes, but we have a new soloist."

"But Carla is so wonderful."

"But this new girl is even better. Imagine an angel."

"I hope I get to see her, whoever she is."

Five o' clock rang on the clocks throughout the house. Erin stood up and walked to the door, opening it. She looked back. Amelia stood up and they walked down to the dining hall together.

The rest of the weekend passed by quietly, Erin spent most of her time outside or in the music hall, with Josiah and Sandra following around. Amelia watched from afar. The general atmosphere when Erin visited created a sense of irritation and paranoia, which was one reason she was not fond of visiting. Sunday came, and Erin was standing in her bedroom doorway, about to go downstairs to say goodbye to her parents (a word which Erin also found to be of ill use, like home). Amelia ran to her and threw her arms around her- Erin flinched. This was not the normal for her sister.

"Hurry back- as soon as you have my song."

"I promise."

"Hurry back…"

Erin ran a hand through Amelia's hair, then walked downstairs.

XXXXX

Wednesday was the day of the concert auditions. Officially the judge was Mr. Bradley, who sat in the audience while the auditioned would sing on stage. But Erin lingered up in the rafters to listen, as she was the one making all of the decisions. She had already complied her cast sheet, but stayed to see if anyone surprised her- and there were enough to affect a few minor changes, but that was all. Business as usual.

The sheet was posted outside the P.C.A. (performing arts center) the next morning.

Erin was staring off into space, sitting at the piano until Christine arrived from the cafeteria. She had been in the theater right after the posting, and Erin feared Christine was going to faint from excitement when she saw herself appointed the lead soloist. Christine was a good girl who knew how to express gratitude, and upon seeing Erin promptly smothered him with hugs while jumping simultaneously. It was all very pleasing.

"ERIN!"

Erin was jolted from her thoughts. It was Carla. Her scarlet hair swirled about her as she half- stomped, half-strutted over to the piano- the impression was of a violent tempest. Erin stared at her blankly.

"What the hell is this-" she slapped the cast sheet on top of the piano, "Christine Dane is listed with all of the best solos, making her the lead soloist- and I'm secondary!"

"You were out-sung, that's all."

"No-that's not all. She's your new favorite, so you just drop me- isn't that it? Is it her blonde hair? What is it?" She stepped closer, hands clenched. "Don't you tell me it has nothing to do with feelings!"

Carla raised her hand, and brought it down towards Erin's face.

Erin caught it, her expression unchanging.

Carla tried to release herself, but couldn't, and so tried weakly smacking Erin with her other hand, who caught that hand also. Erin stood.

"I wouldn't be so pissed," Carla said angrily "if I had been replaced by a singer- not a comedy act!" She laughed, then gave a yelp. Erin's hands had tightened around her wrists.

"A comedy act!" Erin let go, pushing her away. Carla lost her balance in her pumps and stumbled. Her heel caught on the edge of the stage and she fell off and onto the audience floor with a shriek. "You are the fool." Erin sat back down at the piano, "Especially if you continue to act upon your jealousies."

Carla hoisted herself to her feet with a huff, glaring at Erin. She crawled back onto the stage and stood up.

"Erin," Erin looked over at her. "She…I…" Carla shook her head and pushed back her shoulders. "you know what," Carla walked slightly limping, posture proud and straight, over to the theater door. "I don't care." She limped at little faster once she actually reached the door, and didn't look back when she rushed out.

"I don't care! I don't care. I don't care…" Carla said to the empty air. She wished it was true. She had wandered around the outside of the P.A.C. to one of the empty expanses of grass and trees around the school. She sat down by a tree and drew up her knees, looking at the scratch and now developing bruises along her left leg. She regretted wearing a skirt. The wind tossed her red hair lazily, she watched the long tendrils. Carla had never seen Erin angry, though she wouldn't have described the scene back in the theater as a "blow-up". What creeped her out was the controlled nature of Erin's cruelty- and she was mean! Now she really couldn't show her face in the theater. It's all Christine's fault, that stupid blonde bimbo- she doesn't even know Erin's a woman. But then…she initially had thought so also. But still! After spending all that time together…after holding her…wouldn't it be obvious? Why was Christine special? What made her different from all of the other students? But why should she care about what Erin was getting into…nope. She completely, absolutely, entirely did not care. She was only crying because the wind blew dirt in her eyes.


	6. Little Red Corvette

Erin stared at the piano keys, not thinking about Carla's interruption, waiting for Christine. He soon heard her voice, calling his name. He turned to face her, her face was flushed, hair half coming out of her bun. He stood.

"What happened?"

"Oh, nothing-" she grinned, "I just ran here, Meg was chasing me. We were playing, uh, tag." Then she blushed and looked down. Erin chuckled. Christine let the rest of her hair free, sighing. She looked at him. "I'm declaring today a holiday."

"For what occasion?" He sat down on the bench.

"Today is national let's-not-rehearse day."

"Oh, so are you trying to get out of work, Miss Dane?"

"I don't know about you," She sat next to him on the bench, "But we have done _nothing_ but practice every day for like, ever! Honestly, I think I'll scream if I have to sing any of those songs again."

"Unfortunately you're going to at least sing them once more, for the concert."

"Oh-I know that- I just want a break! I mean, I spend more time with you than anyone, and I don't know anything about you! We don't really talk, we're always singing…" Christine looked down "I-it's nice, of course, but I'd like us to be _friends_, right now I feel like I'm just your student."

Erin had a lopsided smile on his face and was staring at her. Christine wanted to melt, and found herself leaning forward, forward, forward, and closing her eyes. Then there was a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes opened and saw Erin hold her away from himself, who was staring wide-eyed at her. Christine turned away and stood up, then ran out of the theater. Erin watched her, speechless.

Christine ran out of the P.A.C. and down the hall, her face burning with embarrassment. _I can't believe I really did that!_ She had tried to kiss him, she just, well, there was no thought behind it, it was just a reaction. But Erin, the way he looked at her-

"Hey Christi- ACK!"

She ran right into Ronnie, and he tried unsuccessfully to catch her, and they stumbled to the ground. She landed on top of him, mouths crashing into each other. Christine yelped in pain and scrambled off of him. Ronnie groaned.

"Jesus, Christine, I had imagined kissing you would've been less painful."

He sat up, Christine gasped.

"Oh my god- your tooth!"

"What?"

He looked at her.

"Your front tooth, it has a huge chip."

They happened to be by the boys bathroom, and he ran inside, Christine crept up to the door, tentatively peering inside.

"WOW." She heard Ronnie's voice.

"I'm so, so sorry Ronnie!" She leaned against the wall, and covered her face with her hands.

Ronnie came out of the bathroom, laughing hysterically.

"I can't wait to tell this story-" He noticed Christine, and his laughter died. "Christine, it's okay- it hurt like hell, but I don't mind. I think it's funny."

Christine moved from the wall and began to walk the other way, hands still on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Ronnie put his hand on her shoulder, but she shook him off.

"I don't want to talk about it."

He ran to be in front of her, and grasped her by the shoulders, Christine's hand moved to try to pry them off, and he saw that she had been crying.

"Hey, I'm here for you. You know that, right? You can talk to me."

Christine looked at him…_you're not the one I want to talk to!_ But the one she wanted to talk to was the reason she was crying. Ronnie looked so sad, looking at her. She felt guilty, he didn't know. He was a nice guy, but…she felt she had acted stuck-up towards him, and felt twice as terrible.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, but why were you running?" Christine looked at the ground. Ronnie shrugged, and put his arm around her, and they walked down the empty hall. "You can tell me when you want to." He continued. "I'm glad I ran into you though."

They both laughed. Christine sniffed.

"You must be really masochist then." She said, smiling weakly.

"No, really, because I was going through some old photos and found out something really cool."

"What?"

Ronnie pulled out a photo from his large jean pocket, and showed it to her. It had a little girl smiling broadly in a pink dress, whom Christine realized was herself, and a blonde boy in a blue suit, looking at the camera grumpily. She looked at Ronnie.

"Is this us? What is this?"

"I remembered when I looked at this photo, that you were the little girl I had grown up with, before I moved away to Hawaii. I feel really stupid from not realizing it sooner- I thought I'd never see you again!"

Christine looked at him, then at the photo. Her face lit up, and she hugged him.

"Ron! It's you!" They stayed in their embrace. "I was so miserable when you left, I just knew your mom moved away just because she knew you liked me so much, and I was so mad because it was a week before your birthday, and I had spent so much time practicing the song I made for you."

"You made a song for me? Can you sing it?"

Christine looked at him, and frowned.

"I lost the lyrics, and I don't remember how it went."

"Oh, I don't think I can ever forgive my mom for that then!"

"I missed you."

Ronnie grinned.

"Yeah, me too." He laughed. "You, I mean."

Christine pushed him, turning away.

"You're still a huge dork."

"But I'm _your_ dork."

Christine started to cry.

"Yeah, you are."

They spent the rest of lunch together, and they spent the afternoon catching up (Christine didn't have the heart to go back to see Erin). Meg was with them for a few minutes, amazed that they had known each other for so long, she laughed when she excused herself to go "study", and left them alone. Christine didn't talk about why she had been crying, and Ronnie only asked once. They spent their time together in this manner for the next two days, Ronnie did most of the talking, joking, commenting. Christine was content to listen. Oddly enough, it had been the other way around back when they were younger. She would talk endlessly, and he would stare and listen attentively. She did tell him that her father had committed suicide so she could use the insurance money for her tuition, because he asked when he could see her dad again. They cried together, as Christine's dad had been Ronnie's dad (his real one had died before his birth). That was the second day, and the sky had begun to darken. Christine was lying in his arms, when she looked up and blushed, thinking of the flush of emotion in her heart. Her childhood sweetheart, that's what he had been to her, and still was.

"Ouch! What the hell?"

Ronnie sat up, and shielded Christine, looking around.

"What happened?" Christine looked around.

"Some one threw a rock at my head!"

They scrambled out of there, eyes scanning their surroundings.

Christine yelped, when she looked to her left. She thought she had seen two glowing yellow eyes off in the shadows. She pulled Ronnie along, quickening her pace.

Erin had chucked a good sized rock at the boy's head, to deter what she thought was going to become a kiss. She had hoped it would've rendered him unconscious, or even _dead_, but this would have to be enough for the moment. She wasn't stupid, she realized something was up when Christine didn't come by after school a the day Christine had tried to kiss her. She thought it was her fault. She hadn't meant to hold her away, she had just…panicked? Not quite the right word, but that was the general reaction. Erin couldn't believe her bad luck when she found out that Christine and Ronnie were childhood friends, and that she had happened to run right into the idiot after fleeing the theater. She was angry at herself most of all. She had literally let Christine run from her, and into someone else's arms. But the question was, what to do now?

XXXXX

Christine sighed in relief, she had been afraid that the P.A.C. would be locked since it was a Saturday morning, but the door was open. She had left her U.S. Government folder in the choir room the previous day, she wished she wasn't so forgetful! She entered and saw that Mr. Bradley was there, sleeping on several chairs lined up. His brown hair was dishelmed, and a shadow had begun to appear on his thin face. It was obvious he had spent the night there. He woke up when she had walked in.

"Christine…?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Bradley- I just forgot something in here."

She pointedly avoided looking right at him, searching for her Government folder. She heard him get up, the plastic school chairs squeaking.

"Good morning." He stretched, it was clear he didn't make a habit of working out, from his thin arms, and his stomach which pouted over his belt._Why am I noticing this? _It reminded her too mush of a girl in fourth period, who had stick arms and a mushroom top. "Have I told you that you are very talented?"

She glanced at him, he was nearby, staring at her. She had feared he may have possibly been drunk or hung-over (judging from his disheveled appearance), but he was not, his eyes being clear and focused upon her.

"Really?" She walked around the room, looking for that folder "Thank you," she became uncomfortably aware that Mr. Bradley took a few steps whenever she moved, getting a little closer each time. "Have you seen my government folder? It should be on the floor somewhere, around here, I'm sure I left it in your room…" She stood up, having the feeling he was staring at her ass the whole time she'd been scouring the room, bent over. She turned to face him, then gasped a little when he was much closer than she had thought. "Have you seen it?"

He held up for her to see her binder, placing it on the chair next to them.

"There is an extraordinary lack of notes in here, are you distracted in class, or is the class that easy?"

She glanced at her folder, then at him. She made to take it, but he held up his arm between her and it, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure you're a good student, and there's nothing wrong with a little texting." He shrugged. "You are very forgetful you know."

"Yeah, sorry." She smiled weakly.

"If you're not careful, you might lose something important one day."

He leered at her, half-smiling. Mr. Bradley leaned in towards her.

"_Good Morning."_

Mr. Bradley backed away from her, and spun around. Christine almost cried out in relief, and felt her knees weakened. Erin was standing in the doorway to the theater, glaring at Mr. Bradley. His ink hair was tousled, he looked like he had just woken up, or had been awake all night.

"Hello, Erin." Mr. Bradley said, backing away, towards his desk.

Christine snatched her folder and hurried over to Erin, who put his arm around her protectively, drawing her close.

"I need to talk to you about the order of performances later, Mr. Bradley."

"I'll see you then."

Erin walked Christine outside of the P.A.C. Christine still clung to him. Then she noticed they had stopped walking, and pushed herself away. As she did her hand ran across Erin's back and felt something like small metal rings along the spine.

Erin looked at her blankly, not speaking. Christine realized that he must be expecting an excuse for why she hadn't been to see him for the past few days, and felt her heart sink.

"I'm so sorry…" Christine began.

"Avoid being around Mr. Bradley alone."

"I didn't know he was there, I was looking for my folder."

"If you see him in there, and no one else is around, leave. Do you understand?"

"Okay."

"Why were you trying to get your folder today? You could've- should've- waited until Monday."

"I have a test Monday." She looked up at him. "What were you doing in there?"

"I was…composing." His face changed slightly, eyebrows lifting. "Yes, I was trying to compose a song…it didn't go too well."

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Christine asked. She recognized an opening to learning something about Erin, and she would be a fool to pass it up.

"Sure. What do you do during your weekends?"

"At first I just sat in my room reading, but Meg has been dragging me down to the city. We usually go to the mall, or watch a movie. You?"

"Compose, or play music."

"That's all?"

"Or I sleep."

"You said you were composing in the theater, what was it?"

They walked along, the girls dorms were now visible.

"A simple little song, really…on the violin. But I just can't get the feel of it."

Christine looked at him, he was glaring into the space in front of him.

"Well…maybe I could help?"

"No." He looked at her, his face softened, and he looked down, "No, this song is a secret. No one will ever hear it, except the one I'm writing it for." He continued, "So, as you can see, it must be perfect."

Christine thought to herself, who in the world could he be writing a song for? For her? She blushed at the thought- what a vain thought! Then, what if he had a girlfriend! She paused briefly, causing Erin to look back at her.

"Christine?"

It made complete sense- that's why he stopped her the other day, all of this time he had was just being nice to her! How could she have been so dumb-

"Are you okay?"

"Uh- yeah."

They were at the dorms now, Christine ran from Erin, and up the stairs. She was fumbling, trying to unlock her door, when she heard Erin calling her.

"Christine!"

She got the door open, but she turned back and looked over the balcony. Erin was staring up at her, the sun causing his eyes to glow. She was instantly reminded of two things: first, the yellow eyes from last night. Which caused her to shiver. Then the scene from Romeo and Juliet, up there on the balcony. She gripped her folder tightly.

"Yes?"

Erin smiled at her.

"Can I…" he looked down briefly, "Can I take you out to breakfast?"

Christine grinned broadly, feeling very light-headed all of a sudden.

"Okay!" She ran inside and tossed her folder on the floor, then she stopped. She had just accepted a date with Erin- Erin had just asked her out- she had to wear something more appropriate. She dashed back out. Erin wasn't there. Her stomach flipped. "Erin?" she squeaked.

"Over here." she turned in the direction of the voice, to her right, nothing. Someone tapped her left shoulder, she turned her head, and gasped at Erin, who was just barely coming up the stairs.

"How did you do that?"

Erin looked at her oddly.

"Well, I walked up these stairs, and here I am on the same floor as you."

"No, I mean…" She shook her head, "I want to change into something nicer, please wait out here." She went inside her room and closed the door. She heard Erin on the other side.

"But you look nice already."

Christine smiled. Then she frowned. Obviously Erin _didn't _have a girlfriend. Or she hoped he didn't, and wasn't that kind of guy. Maybe she was thinking too much of it all. She looked through her clothes and pulled out a dark blue sun-dress with spaghetti straps. _This will have to do._

Christine opened the door.

"A vision of loveliness." Erin said, who had miraculously cleaned up while Christine was getting ready.

Christine wore the dainty little dress, with sandals, her hair was free. The golden strands floated about her, from the frequent breeze. She modestly averted her eyes.

"Thank you. Where are we going?"

"To the city."

Erin offered his arm, and Christine took it. They walked down the stairs together.

"Really, how?" Erin gestured over by the front of the school, Christine saw a lone '65 Corvette Convertible. Red, of course. "Is that your car!"

"No, it's my Father's. Cars are one of the things he collects. He doesn't really like this one, so he doesn't even notice when it's not there."

"Oh." Christine looked down. She had no idea just how wealthy the kids she went to school with were. She had assumed foolishly that all of the designer clothing she saw must be fake, like in a public school. Real wealth was far more intimidating. "Do you visit home often?"

"No."

They didn't say anything else, until Erin opened the passenger door for Christine.

"_Après vous." _He smiled at her.

"_Merci."_ Christine said.

The door closed, Christine put her hand to her mouth. She didn't know French!

"_J'ai vous en prie."_ Erin got in, winking at her, and turned on the car. "Do you mind the top being down?"

Christine looked at the lack of a car top.

"No, it's fine. The weather is warm enough today."

Erin handed her a pair of sleek sunglasses.

"It'll keep your hair from whipping your eyes."

Christine put them on, and saw Erin put on a pair of aviators.

The little car drove away and down the road. Erin turned up the radio, and Christine started laughing. It was Sabotage by the Beastie Boys.

"What?" Erin gave his lopsided grin at her.

"I would've never thought _you_ listened to this, Mr. Opera."

"I _love_ the Beastie Boys. _Gotta Fight for Your Right _is my theme song."

Christine laughed.

"Hold on." Erin said.

"Why?"

The car accelerated, burning down the empty road. Christine was pushed against her seat from the force. She looked up at the sky, and laughed. It was exhilarating. Nothing could make you feel fabulously wealthy like this. Her worries were blown away at 112 mph. The roar of the engine blended with the heavy beat of the music.

Erin looked very briefly at Christine, admiring how her hair twisted in the wind.

Christine didn't know how long the drive had been, and felt the oddest feeling of being stagnant. She realized they had stopped, and Erin was holding the door for her. She stared at Erin.

"I can't move."

Erin laughed, and lifted her out of the car, Christine, tried walking around, feeling entirely off-balance. She saw they were outside of a little diner, on the coast. She looked at Erin.

"How are we at the beach, it's almost 300 miles away!"

"Magic." He winked at her, and they slowly walked up to the door. Christine looked at her watch. Two hours had passed in the car, and her legs weakened at the thought of how fast they must have been going. Erin carried her inside, and out to a lone table on a balcony looking out towards the sea. Christine slumped in her chair.

"Wow." She was also starving.

The staff apparently knew Erin, as they called him by first name, and he ordered for the both of them.

"I hope you'll be back in the theater during lunch."

"And after school." Christine said, sitting up.

"After school is rehearsals for the winter concert."

"Oh, yeah." Christine ran her hands through her hair, "The wind really did my hair in!"

"It's wonderful."

Christine blushed.

"So, this is a date?"

Erin laughed, but Christine noted that his face became a little colored. How cute!

"Well, I'm sure it's not a business meeting." He looked at her, his face resuming it's somber blankness, "Yes, it's a date."

"You know what's funny, I thought for a while you had a girlfriend."

"Me? Where did you get that idea?"

"Oh," Christine looked down, "Well, you know, I thought that was why you pushed me away…the other day?"

Erin frowned a little. He looked down.

"It wasn't you-"

A waiter, John, came out with their breakfast. He set each plate down on the table, and refilled their glasses. He nodded to Erin, smiled at Christine, and exited. They lay their napkins on their lap, and began to eat, they both had crepes with strawberries. Christine looked over at the ocean, flat and blue. There were a few boats farther out, looking like white dots.

"So what do you do with your friends when you guys hang out?" Christine asked, eventually.

Erin paused.

"I…" He laughed softly, "I don't have friends, actually."

Christine stared at him.

"Is there anything we can talk about that _isn't _an awkward subject."

"What's your favorite color?"

"Blue." Christine laughed. "You?"

"Black."

"Black is a tone, not a color. My old art teacher said so."

"Oh, and do you believe everything your old art teacher says?"

"I mean black doesn't count!"

"Fine, green. Does that please you?"

"Very much." She thought a moment. "Who is it that you're writing your _secret_ song for?"

"Oh," Erin's face became somber. "My sister."

"You have a sister?"

"Yes, her name is Amelia."

"Wow, that's so pretty. Is she musical too?"

"She's more visual art, and writing." He shrugged, "I don't know for sure."

"She's younger right?" Erin nodded, "What's it like having a little sis?"

"I don't know. Interaction between her and I is scarce."

"Oh."

"I don't suppose you have siblings."

"No…I always thought it might be nice," Christine smiled "Even though everyone I know who has them says otherwise." She put down her fork. "So you're writing her a song?"

"Yes." Erin looked out to the ocean. "Are you happy at all here?"

"At our school?"

"Yes."

"It's hard to like it, even though all of my life I've wanted to come here. It's just the circumstances…but ignoring that, the school is everything I dreamed it would be. So, I guess I'm happy. As happy as I can be." She stopped pushing the food around on her plate, and her eyes looked up. Erin was sitting still, watching her. A warm feeling settled over her. "Meeting you has helped."

After breakfast, Christine learned they were in Malibu, and they walked around browsing the shops. Lunch, they stopped at a deli, and later went for ice-cream. Christine felt guilty at Erin paying for everything, but he insisted, saying it was his duty as a gentleman. He was being a little melodramatic at that moment, which caused Christine to giggle, and led to him pretending to be offended. It was an amusing day. The drive back was far longer, as Erin drove the speed of a normal car. Christine was grateful, and napped the whole way. When they got back to the school, it was five in the afternoon.

Erin called Gerard to pick up the car, and ordered Chinese take-out. Christine woke up, and stretched inside of the car, lazily crawling out. They walked towards the dorms, and Erin flagged down the Chinese delivery man, as he drove by. They ate in her room, talking about little nothings. They said goodnight at the door, Christine felt the metal rings again, and deliberately felt along them.

"What is this?"

Erin stiffened and held her away.

"It's…" He stepped out of the door.

"What? You can tell me."

"It's a binder."

"Oh, I didn't know…" Erin turned his face away, waiting for Christine to realize what that meant. "I used to know another guy who had scoliosis, he had surgery, and he had to wear a binder for a year after, to keep his spine from regressing."

Erin looked at her, mouth hanging open. He shook his head, then leaned in the doorway.

"I don't like to tell people about it. I don't want to be thought of as some victim."

Christine touched his face.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of. I only admire you even more."

Erin took her hand from his face and kissed it. He could sense Christine trembling. He let her go.

"Goodnight." He gave a little bow, and turned to leave.

"Goodnight, Erin."

He stopped and turned back towards her.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course!"

Before Christine could blink, Erin stepped forward and kissed her.

Just as quickly he was gone, and she was leaning into the air. She rushed to the balcony, and saw a shadow melt into the night.


	7. A Kind of Don Juan

_Again, I recommend looking up "Somewhere Above the Sun Shines Bright", on youtube._

* * *

Erin lay on the floor of her room, idly playing on her violin. She was pretending she was floating on air, all of this way above the ground, not in heaven but someplace nicer. It really was true what they say about first impressions, once they're made, it takes a long time and a lot of evidence to change them. Christine's first impression of her had been of a man, and so that image had persisted. Erin would laugh if she wasn't go grateful for it. Back in her freshman year, there had been a girl who she had followed around for a while, but someone told her that Erin was a girl, and she went away. Most girls followed suit. They would watch her play the piano, but none of them wanted to be seen as _bending that way_, the most popular term for it. The boys stayed away also, but Erin didn't care for them. Occasionally one would get brave enough to approach her, but usually they would just say "hi" and never show their face around her again. It was all very odd.

She sighed, and closed her eyes. Though there was no light up here, she could see just fine, but that was from her eyes having adjusted over the years, in the dark she could see a pin drop. Why did her existence feel so wrong sometimes? But it was okay now, because there was Christine. But she still worried. After all, she may find out the truth eventually, for herself, or from another.

Then there was Mr. Bradley. When Erin returned, they had a nice talk about proper teacher behavior. What a poor excuse for a man. Thank god she had decided to come down when she did…Christine. Her thoughts turned to their day together. The violin then hit the perfect note- she opened her eyes. Yes, that will be how Amelia's song begins. She played the note again, and continued after that. It sounded like lovers weeping. She paused after a minute, and lay there holding the violin to her. It was so familiar. She played again. It was too delicate for an organ. But now that she had started, it flooded out through the violin, filling the room with it's cry.

XXXX

Christine spun through her classroom doorway Monday morning, bursting to tell Meg all about her weekend. But she wasn't there, so she sat through her classes, pretending to pay attention. At break she found Ronnie.

"Where's Meg?"

"Oh, her Aunt from Utah came by, and took her to Disneyland for the week."

"She didn't tell me…"

"I found out from the office, and that's only because I'm supposed to keep track of all of the homework she's missing, since we have most of our classes together." He shrugged. "Hey, homecoming's coming up, you going with anyone?"

Christine started at the question. _Oh no…dilemma…!_

"Ah- not yet."

Ronnie frowned, raising a brow.

"You say that like you already have someone in mind."

"Well, I'm just keeping my options open." Christine had started to walk away.

Ronnie followed her.

"I want to take you Christine. I want to be your date."

"Oh, Ronnie-" Christine looked around for a girl's bathroom to hide in. "That's wonderful, but-"

"But what? It's okay to say no." He caught her arm, "But I doubt that whoever you are going with is worthy. I've known you for almost my whole life, There's no one better suited to take you out- no one you can trust more." Christine turned away, spotting the bathroom. "No one who loves you more."

Christine stopped, and spun around.

"What?" She failed to resist smiling.

"I love you, Christine."

"Oh- that's- I don't know what to say." She backed towards the bathroom door.

"Don't you feel the same?" Ronnie paled.

"I have to go!" She made a mad dash into the door, and held it shut behind her. The girls inside stared at her briefly.

"Christine!" she heard him shout through the door, everyone inside looked over. "At least tell me who you are going with- who is it? _Who is it!_"

Then she heard a teacher tell Ronnie to move away from the bathroom, and students laughing outside of the bathroom.

"Look, _Ronnie_ just got brushed off!"

"About time."

"That player now knows what he put all us girls through."

The girls snickered inside of the bathroom.

"You're awesome," said a girl applying mascara, "You're the first girl who hasn't given in to that jerk's _charms_."

Her friend next to her looked over, smirking.

"Yeah, nice job. You're Christine, right?"

"Um, yeah." She let go of the door, stepping a little closer to the mirrors.

"I'm Jess," said the first girl, she pointed at her friend "this is Gabby, or Gabriella."

"Gabby," Gabby corrected, playfully pushing Jess, not hard enough to mess up Jess' make-up. "So, let me guess," she said, looking at Christine "he just asked you to homecoming?"

"Yeah, was it that loud?"

"No, he asks a girl every year, usually they fall all over themselves to say yes."

"But…I thought, we're childhood friends, so-"

"Really- you knew him as a kid?" Jess said.

"Well, maybe he actually likes _you_. But even so, you're probably better off saying no."

"So why'd you turn him down?"

"Besides the fact that he's a disgustingly charming womanizer." Gabby grinned, revealing her braces. They made her look cute, in a klutzy way.

"It's not like that- I do like him- but-"

"Oh, are you already taken?"

Christine blushed.

"That's a yes." Jess laughed softly. "Who's the guy?"

"It's okay, you can tell us."

"Well, I don't want to say we're _together_, officially, anyways…but I hope he asks me to homecoming…"

"What is this, the fifties?" Gabby said, "You could always ask him, you know."

"By looking at that silly grin, he must be really something."

"Y-yeah." Was she grinning? She felt her blush deepen as she tried to stop smiling.

"You look like you're about to drop dead from all the blood rushing away from your heart and to your face."

"So, who is he?" Gabby said, peering at her face in the mirror, playing with a few strands of dirty blonde hair.

"Erin."

Jess poked herself in the eye with the mascara wand.

"Ouch!"

"Which _Erin_?"

Jess looked at Gabby like she was stupid.

"The only Erin anyone ever talks about, duh!"

"Ooooh."

They both smiled at her.

"What?" Christine said.

"That's really sweet. Most girls either lack the guts, or the beauty, to win the attentions of that one."

"I _like_ you." Gabby turned to Jess, "Isn't she great?"

"Yeah." the break bell rang. Christine opened the door.

"Um, nice to meet you guys."

"Later Christine!" They called after her.

Christine sat through class, troubled. She didn't mean to lead Ronnie on…she was just so happy to have her old friend back. The worst was that she did have feelings for him- but there was Erin. He was just starting to open up to her more, and he was so different from Ronnie. She didn't want to lose that. The thought of it…was almost frightening. She sighed, wishing Meg was there. There were times when a girl just needed another girl to talk to.

Those two girls in the bathroom, Jess and Gabby, were sorta weird. Was Ronnie really a player? She unwillingly remembered walking in on him and his "girlfriend", and blushed. Was he still that boy she used to know? He had changed so much…

At lunch she hurried to the cafeteria, and ran to the theater, to avoid being seen by Ronnie. She didn't want to have to deal with him right now.

"How are you?" Erin asked, when he saw her.

"Oh, alright…just a little off-balance." Erin waited for her to elaborate. "Uh, a friend of mine, he asked me to homecoming." Christine's stomach twisted at the look on Erin's face. "But I said no, repeatedly, but he wouldn't listen, so I had to hide in the bathroom during break."

Erin sat at the piano.

"Was it Ronnie?"

Christine trembled.

"How did you know?"

Erin smiled at her.

"I'm glad you said no.

"Of course I said no- I'm not that sort of girl."

Erin chuckled.

"Good, he is not worthy of you."

"What do you mean?"

Erin looked down.

"He's in theatre for the wrong reasons. He comes for the beauty of faces, rather than the beauty of music, or of his own art."

Christine sat down beside him.

"I've heard stuff along the same lines of that from others…I just don't like to think he's changed so much from my childhood friend. But I've seen his habits with my own eyes. It's so sad."

"Will we start the scales?"

"Okay," Christine stood up, "I was hoping, maybe you...could take me to homecoming?"

Erin laughed.

"To a school dance? I had something far better planned for that night, rather than the mindless grinding and bad music that is characteristic of our dances."

Christine lowered her eyes.

"Well, I just thought it might be interesting to see what it's like first hand, we could just sit there and laugh at everyone else."

Erin looked at her.

"Have you been to a dance before?"

"Not since middle school…it sounds pretty pathetic, but I never had the money for the tickets."

"Okay," Erin continued, "I'll take you."

"Really?" Christine beamed.

"But you have to do something for me in return."

"What?"

"Enjoy yourself."

Christine laughed.

"Aw, I thought you were going to actually ask for something."

"Why, when I have more than enough?"

Christine smiled at him.

"Start scales." He said quietly, looking at the keys and smiling.

Rehearsals were run by Mr. Bradley, which appeared to be a new development, according to her classmates. Christine felt uneasy at first, but he virtually ignored her, and she relaxed, as much as she could with everyone staring at her every time one of her solos came up.

Erin watched rehearsals from up in the rafters. It pleased her to see Christine went through the whole show flawlessly.

The rest of the week passed in this manner. Erin resumed walking Christine home, and they would kiss goodnight. Christine would sometimes try to pull her nearer, but Erin never allowed it. Erin would never risk Christine finding her to be not quite what she appeared to be. Things were too perfect for that.

Sunday Christine said she needed to do her homework, which was partially true, but she also wanted time alone to think, especially last night.

Christine thought of his face, and felt herself weaken again. He was simply too beautiful. His face, his long hands. She trembled, she wanted so much more from him. These little kisses, they drove her crazy. But every time she tried anything more, he would hold her away, and find an excuse to get away from her. Like last night, they were sitting on her bed, Erin was playing on his violin for her. She had been sitting behind him, when she said,

"You know I like you, right?"

He didn't respond, in the middle of song, furiously winding out the notes. His eyes were closed, and she heard him sigh.

She reached around his waist and nimbly unbuttoned the buttons on his shirt and kissed his neck. She drew her arms around him, hand feeling through his shirt- the music turned into a screech and stopped. The bow of the violin dropped to the ground, and Erin grasped both of Christine's hands in his. He wrenched them away from himself, causing her to be pressed up against his back. He twisted with a jerk, causing her to tumble off of the bed. He grabbed his bow and walked to the door.

"Wait!" Erin opened the door, and turned back to her. Glaring at her. "Why wont you let me touch you?" Christine crawled back up on her bed. She said angrily, "Don't you like me?"

"Do you always equate love with the physical?" He asked, and she looked down.

"Are you just afraid of me seeing you?"

Erin stared.

"Yes."

"You don't need to hide from me."

"I don't want you to see me like that. Please respect this."

"But I want you so much, I don't care about your condition."

Erin bowed is head stiffly,

"Goodnight, Christine."

Christine ran to the door,

"Let me love _you_, please let me have the chance."

Erin stood back.

"You play with words...just to satisfy your morbid curiosity!" He shouted.

Erin turned from her and left.

Christine was left speechless by this flash of anger, she was sorry she ever brought it up, but how could she not? She wondered why he had to make into such a big deal. Christine sat down at her desk and started her homework. She felt a little suspicious of Erin's secrecy, and found she could think of nothing else, but seeing just how bad it was, thinking that once she did, Erin wouldn't feel so ashamed of it. What a silly thing to be ashamed of…it's not his fault his spine was crooked.

XXXXX

Christine found Meg at break the next day.

"How was Disneyland?"

"A lot better than I thought, but after the third day I was kinda getting sick of it."

"I don't blame you!" Christine laughed.

"Did you miss me?"

"More than you know." Christine said. "A lot of stuff happened."

"Well- spill it!" They moved to a hallway out of earshot of everyone.

Christine told her about Mr. Bradley, and Erin coming in the nick of time. Then she got to her date with Erin, she was describing how beautiful Malibu was when she noticed Meg staring at her, mouth hanging open.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Well, Christy, I wouldn't have guessed you went that way- it's fine of course, but still, I'm a little surprised. I thought you and Ronnie were going to end up together."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, you and Ronnie were getting along so well and were child sweethearts and all-"

"No- I meant before that!"

"You and Erin, I mean. It's cool though, but I'm surprised that she would have those sort of feelings towards anyone. It's nice." Meg smiled, Christine turned from her. "What's wrong?"

"What are you saying Meg? Erin's a guy, a _he._"

Meg turned her back around, looking her over.

"You mean you_ didn't know_?"

"Know WHAT?" Christine said loudly.

"Christine…" Meg turned and paced. She looked at her "You really couldn't tell? No one told you?"

"What are you...saying…Erin's a _girl!_" Christine fell against the locker. "Oh my god!" She felt her head spinning, she remembered every moment…a girl, a girl- "Why didn't anyone say anything- Meg- why didn't you tell me!"

"I-I thought it was obvious, everyone thinks Erin's a guy when they first meet her, but no man can ever possibly be as beautiful as she is, and so it just becomes obvious after a while…you know?"

"It can't be true." Christine cried, "Oh god." She staggered, then ran in the direction of the P.A.C. Her golden hair streamed behind her, unraveling from it's bun.

XXXX

Christine entered the P.A.C. and heard piano music wafting through the air. The lights were all off, and the natural light from the tiny window panes at the top of the high ceiling permeated the shadows weakly. The sets and costumes lumped together in the main room gained a new life in the partial light, taking on odd silhouettes. A voice floated along to the piano, and Christine started when she recognized the song;_Somewhere Above the Sun Shines Bright. _It was Erin, doubtlessly. Christine paused where she was, overcome by hopelessness, and despair. She thought of her father, remembered waking up, seeing him lying on the couch. His fingers tinted blue, face white. The smell of shit. She staggered forward, leaning against an upright piano. She looked up, the light hitting her face at a high note. She couldn't sing that high…such feeling, it threatened to render her immobile.

"_Lost and alone in endless night…  
Could one imagine so dire a plight?  
In the darkness I cry like a child, Like a child I cry my lonely prayer…"_

The music called out to her, drawing her towards the theater door, which she now saw was ajar, golden light lining the doorway. Erin's voice started again. She walked to the door, staring at the knob wide-eyed. Christine opened the door, and walked onto the stage. Her eyes were drawn immediately to the piano, where Erin was playing. How did she ever mistake her for a man, with such a venerable timbre of voice? Perhaps it was just this song. It was the body language, the way she was bent over the piano, the controlled movements of her fingers over the keys. Her walk. That was what fooled her. Erin sang the last few words, and finished the song. Christine stared.

Erin stood up, and began to walk away, off stage.

"Is it true?" Erin stopped, "Are you a woman?"

Erin spun to face her.

"Who told you?" Erin turned her face away and slammed both fists onto the piano, letting out a horrendous roar of grief and rage. _"Who told you!"_

Christine squirmed.

"Erin…I-I…"

Erin was before her, abnormally fast. And now Christine could see her face, even though the light above shadowed it. And those champagne eyes glowed, and she remembered again the eyes in the woods.

"Your hands, your hands," She grabbed Christine's hands "Give me your hands, you wanted to see me?" She forced Christine's hands to open up her shirt. "Go on then, try to tear this shirt off, like you tried to do the other night!"

"Erin- I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry-" She cried her name repeatedly, weakly trying to pull away. Erin pulled her closer.

Erin's shirt was now open, and the binder, simple and white, was revealed.

"You think that this is something to just be cast off? You say that my condition doesn't matter, prove it! You say you want to know me, have me, touch me?" Erin ripped open the binder with one rough tug. Christine looked away, but she had seen the slender waist, and small breasts. "Then feel, feel, tear away my pretenses and feast with your eyes, glut your soul on my cursed body!" Erin forced Christine's hands to feel down the whole length of her torso, forced the nails to dig and tear the flesh. "Know- KNOW that it is a WOMAN who loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!"

Christine shook her head and wailed. Erin let her go and Christine fell against the wall, staring at her hands in horror. She saw the skin under her nails, and still felt Erin beneath them. She wept, calling softly for Erin to stop, please stop.

Erin walked to Christine, yellow eyes fixed upon her, little streams of blood forming down Erin's marble skin. She reached down and dug her long fingers into Christine's golden hair, wrenching her head to face her.

"Isn't this what you asked for?" She sneered. "You weren't content to know my heart- but you needed my body too- you wanted _sex, _eh?" She pressed Christine up against her, who was limp in her arms. "You wanted to be _ravaged_. Oh you women are inquisitive! So naughty! Well, now you know what Erin looks like- are you satisfied?" Erin laughed wildly.

"Stop it!" Christine said weakly, face red with shame.

"I'm a very good-looking fellow, eh? When a girl has seen me as you have, she loves me for-ever. She _belongs _to me. I'm a kind of Don Juan, you know." Erin drew herself up to her full height, holding Christine up by her hair. She gestured to herself, wagging her head in fervor, "I am DON JUAN TRIUMPHANT!" She dropped Christine, and turned from her. Melodious laughter filled the theater.

It was silent for a moment. Christine whimpered. Erin slouched, and held her head in her hands. Her shirt had slipped from her shoulders.

"Oh, why did you need to see me? When my father tried to see me, oh, when he tried to see me!" Erin fell to her knees by the piano bench, and rested her head on it, weeping. "And my mother, to avoid seeing me, gave birth to my sister!" She dragged herself to sit at the bench and began playing, hands pounding on the keys, thunder coming from the piano.

The music continued, going on to express every emotion mankind was capable of suffering. Christine lay on the floor of the theater, listening, slowly cleaning her hands. She stiffly wiped them on her bloodied shirt. She lay there until her heart slowed down enough to enable her to sit up without her chest feeling it was about to burst, and cried silently. She thought she heard a bell ring somewhere distant. A bell? She watched Erin down there on the floor, thinking about what had just happened. She trembled. She didn't know Erin at all…she cried a little more. Christine slowly managed to stand, helped immensely by leaning against the wall. She crept up to stand near the piano.

"Erin…" her voice wavered. Erin rose, but did not face her. "Face me without fear!" Erin turned her lovely, melancholy face to her. "I swear you are the most sublime of people I have known, if I ever shy from you, it is because that is how greatly I admire you!" Erin faced her, Christine glanced at the scratch marks, appalled at their depth. "Is there a first aid kit here?"

"Not here." Erin began to close her binder, Christine stopped her.

"Don't do that, you're only going to get blood on it, or get an infection. Where is there a first aid?"

Erin looked up. Christine followed her gaze, squinting.

"Take me up there."

Erin walked to the wing, and gestured to the ladder. Christine began going up it.

"Don't look down, and don't look up." Erin followed her.

They reached the rafters. Christine helped Erin up.

"Where is it?"

"Up there." Erin pointed up.

Christine saw the stairs in the corner, and started up them, and crawled up through the hole without prompting. Erin followed after her.

Erin stood up, with difficulty. Christine looked around the dark room, and found a single window, and opened it with a rough jerk. Light poured in, and revealed the colorful backdrops no longer used, an old mattress on the floor, and a table with a chair. A trunk with clothes carelessly strewn around it lay to the side.

"Is this…_your room_?" Christine turned to Erin, who had shed her shirt and binder on the floor, and was staring up at the window. Erin pointed over to the trunk without looking.

"What you're looking for is in a pack in there." She said slowly.

Christine scurried over and found the first-aid kit easily enough. She turned around, Erin had moved to stand in the light. Christine looked down, her face flushed. She walked over to Erin, and touched her bare shoulder.

"You need to disinfect yourself. Wipe off the blood."

Erin looked at her and grabbed her shoulder, staggering forward. Christine tried to hold her away, but Erin collapsed, and Christine caught her. She frowned. Erin had passed out on her! Great! She struggled over to the mattress, and laid Erin down as softly as she could manage…which wasn't exactly gentle. She paced tentatively across the floor, not having a great deal of trust in it's stability. Christine peered through the hole leading down, and felt her head spin. She sat back. She trembled at the thought of trying to go down. If she slipped, it was a straight fall down to the stage. Christine looked back at Erin. She was trapped up here until Erin woke up. She opened the kit, and arranged the contents on the floor by the "bed". She opened a few antiseptic napkins and glanced at Erin. The remaining tear streaks completed her melancholy beauty, her long pale face still flushed from weeping. She was a handsome woman. Why did she spend her life trying to be a man? Christine wondered what her hair might look like long. She shook her head, and dabbed at the scratches. Erin twitched at first, but sighed in her sleep and remained still after. Christine left the used wipes aside, and paused to pull her long hair out of her face and into a ponytail. She looked at her hands, clean now. She had done that to Erin…well, technically she had done it to herself. What a strange, awful form of mutilation. She softly wiped over the wounds again. Then spread ointment and wrapped several layers of gauze to cover Erin's torso. The binder had a spot of blood on it, so Christine went to the trunk to find another, but there was none. So she pulled out the blanket from out under Erin's legs, and covered her with it. Christine sighed and lay on the floor, head resting on the side of the bed, she stared out of the window. There was nothing but clear blue sky. Outside the sun was shining brightly, but in here it seemed to be nothing but endless night.


	8. The Next Morning

Lucifer was with God, and they had just watched Erin's fit of rage.

"Why are they repeating themselves?"

Lucifer scowled, sitting on the floor, head balanced upon one hand.

"They don't know better."

God stood, hands clasped behind his back, looking down at Lucifer, a nondescript look on his face. Lucifer looked up, hand flying to slap down on the floor.

"Why- for lack of a better phrase- the _hell _did you make Erik a woman? I asked for Erik to have a second chance so that he would not be hindered by the superficiality of his face and the consequences of that- and instead you have given him something just as bad. Another appearance that causes him nothing but harassment, rejection, and misery. Great beauty is as great of a curse as ugliness!"

God frowned, pointedly looking at Lucifer, in all of his celestial perfection.

"I am afraid I must agree."

Lucifer sprung to his feet.

"What was that look for? Are you suggesting that my beauty is a fault?" He turned away, huffing, "Well, it wasn't my fault you wanted a little _eye candy_ in the great big void before everything."

God looked up, to hide the fact his face was pink.

"Erik's gender was a result of free-will."

Lucifer spun around.

"I know you just changed the subject- so don't you think I'm not going to bring it up against you again later! This is more important." He walked closer, "Free will is to blame for Erik's gender? Then how in the world did he end up being so damn lovely, if you don't interfere? That wasn't freewill, as the parents are not godly in their own appearances."

"Well…I did meddle a little…since you threw such a fit."

"Why didn't you make him a man, since you went through the trouble of making him the most attractive human?"

"That was…a detail I looked over."

"Humph, the devil's in the details, right? Well, well, well, look at how things are going because of it! It's the same damn story."

"I have to disagree. The basic plot, yes, but the details are quite different."

"Yes, I'd say it's even worse this time."

"You are very negative."

"No, just supremely annoyed."

"Do something about it. Stop coming to me for everything."

"I cant do anything without permission! Humans have free will- not I!"

"Do you want to be human?"

Lucifer blanched.

"Nooo way. Forget it." He sighed in irritation, "So you're saying this is all a big fluke?"

"Just as with last time. There was no curse or ill will, Erik was just born different. It happens. Reality is not very solid, you know, it is quite flexible, bending into what is considered fantasy or illusions. But it is real, all the same. Erik just got caught in the bend."

"I have to go…" Lucifer slumped, stepping through the window they had been watching, "I have someone to watch over, you know."

God sighed. Lucifer would learn. It was a part of His plan. Lucifer didn't have Free Will, so no matter what he did, he would be lead to the same place, the same realization. No choice. It was the same with all of those he had made before humans.

He didn't really like Erik…which was bizarre, because he had made him like all of his other children, but there was something about him that made him uncomfortable. And this dislike had only begun recently after thinking about the end of his life, and when he let Christine free when it was entirely within his power to retain her, and to be happy. Fool. No, he wasn't. He knew better. God thought perhaps that he should look into it more carefully, and maybe he could figure out the cause of this uncomfortable feeling. It made him feel uncomfortable about himself, and at ill-ease with anything he did. This was…_doubt._ Or guilt. Something.

God too had duties to attend to, and so slinked away, pushing these thoughts aside. But they continued to lurk in the back of his mind.

XXXX

Erin woke up, the faint moonlight providing dim illumination. She sat up and felt her torso, gauze. Christine was asleep on the floor, head resting on the edge of the bed. Erin shut her eyes and held her head. The events earlier wasn't some god-awful dream, but reality. She moved out of the bed, grabbed her binder and shirt, dressing herself. Down to the stage she fled, leaving Christine above. Erin moved to the main room, full of costumes and sets. She passed a mirror, and stopped. Tall and thin and no curves anywhere. It was an illusion, of course. Under the clothes was the truth she had to face every night. She was a _woman_. She clutched her shoulders, looking into her own eyes, which glowed in the darkness. She could deal with the physicalities, if it wasn't for the social consequences being a girl has brought. It was disturbing, growing up and realizing what it meant to be beautiful. Human lechery disgusted her. Always being told how lovely she is…she felt like she was never remembered for anything but beauty. And now Christine knew the truth! Erin turned away from the mirror, sneering at her image. She had hoped perhaps it would not matter- but she knew, by the way she asked "Are you a woman?", it mattered, it mattered- Christine knew! She sat alone in the darkness, beside a roman column, dresses, and a fake horse. She looked up at the horse, it was white, with a jeweled saddle. The theatre geeks had named it "Caesar", for no apparent reason. Christine couldn't look past something Erin had no control over…why was everyone so concerned about appearances? If only she had been a man! It wasn't fair- she was far more "manly" than many of the boys who strutted the school. But that didn't matter, naturally. _Character counts for nothing, _Erin mused_, just what's between your legs._

Erin had thought, perhaps Christine, being isolated as she was, would understand her own loneliness. She wanted so much to love her. But what was the purpose, if she would only reject her on such a superficiality? She didn't need much in the way of physical contact, if that was the problem. Just a kiss, a simple little thing, really. Ah, but why should Christine want to be with her know, after what she had done? But…she looked up, and couldn't help but smile…but where was Christine now? In her room! And she had not fled. But she might still try. Still, this showed there was hope, and she would not let her go, until she was sure Christine would come back, as before. Erin stood up, and searched her pockets, and pulled out a skeleton key she had made a few years ago. It had taken her a few tries to get it right. Everyone assumed everything came naturally to her, like some weird genius- but she worked very hard at her tricks, never really satisfied.

Erin went to Christine's room, and gathered clothing and other belongings.

XXXX

Christine looked around, rubbing her neck, which was a bit sore from how she had been sleeping. She looked around, disoriented, then remembering where she was and why. Erin wasn't in the bed…and she realized she had been moved into it some point during her sleep. The sunlight filled the room. It felt like morning.

Erin had left her alone up here!

She stood up, and saw her suitcase. Confused, she went to it and opened it. Inside were several changes of clothes, toiletries, and her diary. Erin had brought this up …did she mean to _keep_ her here? She had to get out. She went to the opening where the ladder was, but immediately backed up, glimpsing the terrifying drop below. She sat down, she couldn't do it. And what about her belongings? There was no way she could carry her suitcase down with her! Then she wondered how Erin brought it up, while climbing the ladder. She stood up and paced, mind racing. She thought of yelling for help…but decided against it. They wouldn't come up here…she just guessed this, no one would stand against Erin. She had too much control. She sat down. _Okay, Christine, calm down. You're just freaking yourself out. Maybe it's not so terrible._ She remembered how Erin had acted yesterday. Such incredible rage! What happened to the sweet person from only a few days ago?

Then she heard someone, Erin, coming up. She watched Erin pull herself up effortlessly. She had a backpack, which she took off. Erin looked at her, and Christine thought she saw her flinch. Erin then proceeded to act as if nothing was wrong at all.

"Good morning, my angel." Erin smiled warmly. "Do you like cereal?" Erin walked past her and to the table. She opened the bag and pulled out a box of cereal, a gallon of milk, a bowl and spoon. "Erin should've asked you what you wanted to eat for breakfast, but you looked so tired that Erin just couldn't bring herself to disturb you." She was pouring the cereal and milk in, then placed the spoon in. She moved to show Christine, with a silly flourish of her hand. "Voila."

Christine smiled weakly.

"I love cereal, thank you."

"It's honey bunches of oats, with almonds."

"I like that one very much."

Christine sat in the chair, and Erin sat in the other. Apparently another chair had also been moved up there. She began to eat, then noticed Erin was just staring at her.

"Aren't you going to eat?"

"Oh no, I don't have much appetite for _food_, normally."

"Oh."

She continued to eat, and tried to ignore Erin's fixed gaze. She looked up again, then diverted her eyes, unused to being watched that way.

"Could you stop staring please…it's sorta hard to eat with you watching me."

Erin looked away politely.

"Erin is sorry."

Christine rested her spoon in the bowl.

"My friends may worry about me not showing up. And I don't want to miss any assignments."

Erin glanced at her.

"Oh, but they all know you're with me, so they will not worry."

"I would like to leave. Please." Christine said very nicely.

"Doesn't Christine want to stay with Erin?"

Erin looked like a sad puppy, sitting still with one hand resting on the table. Christine bit her lip.

"Of course I do. But not all of the time."

"Your cereal is getting soggy."

Christine ate the rest, before talking again. Erin was looking out the window. She spoke;

"You know, right now the sky is the color of your eyes."

Christine looked out the window. The morning sky was the same shade of pale blue as her eyes, sparse clouds floated by lazily.

"Yes, they are." Christine felt her eyes water, she really was trapped up here.

"Why are you crying?"

Erin was looking at her now, Christine looked down and blinked rapidly.

"I'm not- my eyes are sensitive to light, the sky is bright today."

"I'm sorry." Christine looked at Erin, who was standing now, "I have some business down below, so if you will excuse me…" She walked over to the hole and began to descend, "I will back soon, to ask you what you would like for lunch!"

"Wait!" Christine rushed over. Erin was leaving her up there! She thought quickly, as Erin looked up at her. "I need the bathroom!"

Erin smiled softly.

"Well, if you didn't know, our room used to be the green room for the stage crew, and there is a bathroom behind the backdrop with the field of grass- in the back right corner. There is also a shower-" Erin chuckled, "Don't ask me why they would need a shower. I would suppose it was from all the sweat and grease of handling the pulleys."

"Oh…okay…see you soon." Christine said.

"See you soon." Erin smiled warmly, and went her way.

Christine waited for Erin to be far enough down, then flung herself on the bed with a muted groan. She had hoped Erin would've been forced to help her down to use the bathroom, and then she could….could what? Find an adult? As if they would believe her. It was her word against Erin's. She turned over on the bed. It was hopeless. She sat up, and went to find the bathroom, as she actually _did_ need to go. It was back behind the hanging backdrops, as Erin said. The bathroom looked old, but it was clean and looked "lived-in". There was two urinals (she figured most of the past stage crew was male), two stalls, and a large open shower, with a tile floor, three shower heads lining the wall. A curtain of light fabric hung on a pole, obviously to be drawn across the whole area. This was new, she noticed.

After making full use of the bathroom, she felt much better. She had moved her belongings back behind the backdrop near the bathroom, as a sort of dressing room/closet, or something like that. She her wet-and-drying hair was wrapped up in a towel, and she had decided to put on make-up. It was a therapeutic process, focusing on only one little thing at a time. She liked to pretend she was going someplace fancy. Afterward she dried of her hair, and dressed in a pale yellow sundress. She sat by the "dining room" table, and turned the table to the window. She plopped down and began to brush her long hair, watching the clouds go by. Focusing on thoughtless, superficial tasks like this helped to calm her, and let her think in a relaxed, logical manner.

It was true that she was stuck up here, but she had come up here of her own free will- out of compassion, or need-to-mother- so Erin was faultless in that, for the most part. But then it was her fault, because of that…awful…Christine paused and focused on a small tangle in her hair, she wanted to avoid thinking about _that_, for now. The tangle came out, and breeze came in through the window. She sighed. It was her own fault for being too chicken to just _climb down_. But looking down, it felt like everything spun, constricting around her, and she couldn't breathe. A height phobia had kept her up there- Christine had never known she even had such a phobia! But she really could fall to her death, if she slipped, or missed the next rung, or anything, really. But the important thing was Erin didn't put anything to prevent her from crawling down, so…Erin probably thought she had stayed willingly? But if she did crawl down, Erin could easily take her back up- as she had done with Christine's suitcase. Would she do that? She couldn't say, but it couldn't be ruled out.

Christine had no parents or family. She didn't really have friends, except for Meg, sort of. But there was Ronnie. Would he look for her? Likely not, after her rejection of him. But they were friends too…she began to believe his fickleness. But…he was so predictable and familiar, he was _safe._And sweet. And a player. She frowned, maybe she _was _better off up here. Christine shook her head. She really did not know what to think. Had anyone ever been in a situation such as this? No one she had ever heard of, at least.

Was it really so bad? After all…Erin obviously cared for her. Loved her. She thought about before, when she believed Erin was a man, about how charmed she was by his…her…manners, attention, and his- her- very nature. Her very nature. Christine paused again with her brushing. _Her very nature_.

"Hello, my angel!"

Christine almost jumped out of her chair. Erin pulled herself up through the hole, and stood up. She was beaming, and Christine dropped her brush on her lap at the sight. She hadn't seen Erin this happy before, and it made her wondrous to look at. It felt like the room had brightened with her joy. Erin was looking at her with the same sort of surprised admiration.

"You look like spring." Erin said, "Or a bright dawn, when the clouds are golden from the sunlight." Christine stared, gaping a little. Why was Erin so happy? Erin looked over her face, then her face colored slightly and she turned her head away. "What would you like for lunch?"

"Um," Christine wished her thoughts were more coherent. She was still trembling a little from surprise. "well, it doesn't matter really." Erin waited, Christine fingered her brush. "Surprise me." She smiled as sweetly as she could.

"Okay." Erin nodded. "Is there anything else you need?"

"What?"

"You know, clothes, shampoo, entertainment…stuff."

"Oh," She thought. Erin had packed her bag fairly well. "Do you have a radio up here?"

Erin gave her half-smile, Christine remembered the other times she'd seen that.

"No, normally I play music for entertainment. I'll bring one."

"And a lamp? I noticed there isn't one."

"That also."

"And…flowers, in a vase." Christine continued, "Maybe daises, something bright, to lighten up the gloom." She resumed brushing her hair, though it didn't really need it.

"Yes, flowers." Erin watched her.

"Oh, um, that's all. Thank you."

"I will be back soon." Erin said solemnly, finger in the air. It looked oddly humorous. She disappeared before Christine could say bye.

Christine laughed. She didn't know if moments like that were affected on purpose, or if Erin genuinely had a streak of melodrama. Probably the later, but then so did most people she was involved with, as they were all apart of performing arts. Erin was really quiet when she wanted to be, she felt like she was going to have a heart attack when Erin had suddenly called out to her. What was she thinking before Erin came…? _C'est la vie._

There it was again! She meant, oh well. But then her thought just switched to French- which she absolutely did not know, never having lessons, or knowing anyone French. It was just weird. She placed the brush on the table, and stood up. Christine fluffed out her blonde hair, and walked to stand in the sunlight. She spun idly, watching the skirt of her dress and long hair swirl around her. Her hair was almost completely dry, she noted. _C'est la vie… il semble que je suis condamné pour être adoré au moment. Ah, ce que faites ? Je souhaite que j'aie su. _She spun again, watching her hair light up in the sun. _Ce qui à faire, Ce qui à faire, Ce qui à faire…_

Christine napped, with the intention of waking up when Erin returned, but when she woke up, she saw it was afternoon. The lamp, radio, and a bouquet of brightly colored daisies and mini sunflowers in a vase were sitting on the table. Also was a plate, with a sandwich, and pasta salad. And a note. It had the sloppy handwriting in red ink. It apologized for not staying and not wanting to wake her, and where glasses and the fridge and microwave were located…which were there from the green room days, it explained…and the usual pleasantries. Her lunch was obviously from the cafeteria, as it tasted rather fresher. She spent twenty minutes arranging the flowers, lamp and radio to her liking. Then five finding a station she liked. After eating, she sat at the table, and watched the sky absent-mindedly.

Erin returned shortly after. Still as radiant as before. She sat at the table with Christine.

"You are in a good mood today." Christine said.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Erin tapped her finger to the orchestral music from the radio. "You're with me."

" Oh." Christine said, in a surprised tone. It should've been obvious, but she hadn't expected that answer.

Erin took her surprise as being negative, and glanced down.

"I know you don't want to be here…but you cant go back now." She drew her hands under the table, "I know you wouldn't come back to see me, after I… reacted the way I did."

Christine's eyes widened. She didn't think this would've come up so soon.

"I would." Christine wasn't sure if she was lying.

"No, you wouldn't!" Erin's voice rose a little, "When you thought I was a man, you would've come back. But now, now that I am not one…now you don't love me. And now you would only run away, to your little boy-friend." She looked at her. "So you see, now that you have seen me, you have to stay here."

"Okay."

Erin's head jerked up.

"What? You're not going to try to leave?"

Christine thought that if anyone knew about what she was doing, they'd think she was stupid, or trying to encourage someone proven to be irrationally violent.

"No. I'm going to stay with you, just as you wish."

"Okay," Erin nodded, taking Christine's hands. "You will like living with Erin." She slid off of the chair to kneel on the ground before Christine, still grasping her hands. "I promise, you will be happy!"

Christine squeezed Erin's hands, and smiled weakly. What in the world happened to Erin to make her so desperate for affection? Christine felt pity in her heart for the child kneeling on the floor…Erin was childish. With her extreme temper, neediness…she wanted to know Erin's past. She knew so little about her. Christine leaned forward and kissed Erin on the forehead. A warm, sad feeling filled her. Pity, she thought it was, overwhelming pity.


	9. Learning Your Secrets

"_Does Christine find this place gloomy_?" Erin asked, idly touching the soft petals of the flowers on the table. She was talking about Christine's reason for needing them in the first place. Though Christine really wasn't sure if Erin was speaking to her or herself.

They were eating lunch together at the table.

"Oh, no…I meant I thought flowers would be nice."

This was Christine's third day up in Erin's room. The entire situation still seemed absolutely unbelievable to her, but she was simply ignoring that facet of logic, and going along with it- because after all, it _was_ happening. Erin provided for every little comfort, and she had begun to test just how far Erin would go. So far she thought that if she asked for the moon, Erin might actually find a way to bring it to her.

The truth was that she hardly felt worthy of the devotion.

"Homecoming is in two weeks." Erin said suddenly.

Christine had forgotten all about homecoming; it was on December fourteenth, right then it was the end of November. She had also forgotten in the midst of everything that _she_ had asked Erin to take her. Clearly Erin hoped that that this plan was still in effect. So much had changed from only a few days ago!

"Yes it is, I've completely forgotten- what's the theme this year?" Christine said evasively. She actually was curious about the theme though.

"It's supposed to be Disney Fantasy- of all things."

"Oh, does that mean everyone dresses up as a character?"

"It's not required, the idea is having a fairy tale evening."

"I haven't seen any of those movies in a long time, I have no idea who to go as."

Erin smiled. Christine paused; she had said that _as if_ she were going.

"Erin thinks Christine would make a perfect Aurora, only Christine has a voice capable of singing like Sleeping Beauty." She looked at the flowers again. "That was always Erin's favorite part, when they sang together…the French version is exquisite."

"Sleeping Beauty is nice."

"Aurora looks just like Christine…" Erin was smiling, and she pulled a purple daisy out from the vase. "_Who then_, shall be the bumbling but daring Prince Phillip?"

An image of Ronnie flashed through her mind…it was the adjectives Erin used, not the role.

"When you describe him that way- it doesn't suit you-"

But then Maleficent, in all her eerie, possessive glory slinked across her thoughts…she blanched- that was a whole new interpretation to Sleeping Beauty! But that was an insult to Erin really. She was quite noble in demeanor, not a witch at all. Wait. This wasn't really going well- she was supposed to be telling Erin she wasn't going!

"Then who will Erin be?"

"Whoever you want," Christine said, irritated with herself, "I don't think I'll go."

"You've changed your mind?" Erin's mirth slid from her face.

"Well…I just don't feel like going anymore. Why do you want to be a prince anyways?"

Erin looked at her, puzzled.

"Are you suggesting Erin should go as a princess?"

"Yeah, why not." Christine stood up, Erin stood up with her. "I'll throw away the trash." She looked at Erin's plate. "Erin- you haven't taken one bite!"

"You are just like all of the others." Erin said softly.

Christine adjusted the bottom of her tank top.

"Well, what's wrong with being a woman?" She took the trash from her lunch and walked over to the waste bin on the other side of the room. "Women get to be pretty, and wear make-up, and nothing makes you appreciate being a girl more than when you're all dressed up in a beautiful gown and you just feel radiant." She looked back.

"I can't stand it, it is constant torment."

"Is that why you lied to me about it?" Christine, sat back down at the table.

"Lied to you?"

"Yes- Erin- you led me to believe you were a man, for the whole time I knew you. Even worse, you let me believe you had some awful disease, so I wouldn't see you!"

"Everyone mistakes Erin for-"

"But you knew that's what I thought, you didn't really think I knew you were a girl- did you? Do you think I would've _went on a date_ with you, let alone the rest, if I had…known…"

Christine's voice died in her throat. Erin stood by the table, staring down at her. Her eyes had deepened to an amber yellow, a few strands of ink-black hair fell forward as her head hung.

"That's why I lied to you, or simply allowed you to remain ignorant." There was emphasis on the last 't'. "What do you want to hear, Christine, _I'm sorry?_ That would be too bad, because I'm _not._"

Erin walked to the hole to go down.

"Wait right there." Christine rose from her chair as Erin looked back. "You are not running from me, not now, when I still have things to say."

"Like what?"

"_I'm _sorry_._" She continued, "You're smart, and you know that this can't go on." Erin took a step away from the hole, "I'm not trying to get away from you, but soon the school will start asking questions, and the police will start looking for me. There's no use denying it." She sighed. "Why do you like me so much anyways? There are lots of other girls- there are lots of guys too. You're talked about everywhere I go in this school, getting a date shouldn't be difficult for you." She turned away, gripping the chair. "I don't get it. Why me? I'm not special," she looked back at Erin who was already walking towards her. "I'm not worth all of the attention!"

A voice on her left shoulder asked;

"Do you really believe that?"

Christine had been looking at Erin, and had jumped a little at the voice, and looked over frantically. Then she turned her eyes back to Erin, who was standing by her now. She half-smiled.

"Are you still falling for that trick, my dear?"

"It WAS you this whole time- how have you been doing that!?"

"Erin's secrets are _Erin's_ secrets."

Christine sat down.

"I hope you wont say that about everything."

"Do you really wonder why I love you?" Erin was standing in the sunlight coming from the window, and the late autumn light lit her up magnificently. It was like when she was filled with the love, and her face shone with joy again. "I admit your voice, and then your face initially drew me to you, but they triggered something deep inside, as if I had known you always. And being with you, love grew. I love you for no reason at all, except your own sake." The wind blew in, tossing Erin's dark hair, and blowing her shirt. The backdrops fluttered around them.

The effect was an image of such picturesque beauty, Christine wondered if someone was purposely creating the effect. It was simply too perfect. But unless they could tell the wind to blow and the light to hit Erin just so, which no one could do, it was not likely!

"You don't like compliments, do you?" Erin said.

Christine had blushed and looked down while Erin was talking.

"I feel weird."

"I've made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry."

"No- it wasn't what you said…"

"Do you feel sick? Maybe it was your lunch." Erin scowled, looking away. "If so, I'm gonna kill that delivery boy!"

She moved so that instead of lighting her up, the light made a silhouette out of Erin. Christine was again reminded of Erin standing in her doorway, the very first time. Her eyes were glowing the same way, two yellow spots in a shadow outlined in gold.

"What were you thinking then?"

"I'm deciding how to dispose of the incompetent makers of sandwiches."

"What? No- when you came up to my room for the first time," Erin moved out of the square of sunlight, and stood by the table. "When you were standing in my doorway, and you were going to leave…but then you came in instead."

"I was thinking: I want to help her, I hope she let's me."

Christine's eyes widened, but she turned her head. This was the same Erin, from back then. How one detail had changed everything! Or, she looked up, had only her perception changed? But then, things wouldn't have escalated if she hadn't been so accusing, and if Erin hadn't been so…violent. They were both overly preoccupied with something of such small importance, ultimately.

"You have helped me."

"Not enough. You remained troubled."

Christine smiled faintly.

"No more than I've ever been."

"You shouldn't ever be troubled, not if I had it my way." Erin sat down. "Would you like to take a picnic, tomorrow perhaps?"

"You mean, outside?"

"Of course." Erin laughed lightly. "I think it would be nice."

"I would like that." Christine paused. "I also think it would be best if I started going back to school." She added before Erin could respond, "I would still live up here, of course, and not in the dorm. And you would see me during lunch…and it would be like nothing had changed- except where I sleep."

Which was in Erin's bed, and Erin slept on the floor, until something better could be arranged. It was a problem which had an exceedingly simple solution, but one that neither wanted to bring up and avoided bringing up.

"I suppose that would only be wise…" Erin said.

"Really?" Christine couldn't help but smile, she longed for familiar, predictable faces.

"Yes, you are coming back from vacation with your great-aunt Sandra Clarisse. She lives in Seattle, and you spent the past few days becoming reacquainted with her- since the last time you saw her, you were two- and at a funeral for her brother."

"Is _that_ what you told the school, or did you just make that up?"

"I only told them you were with your Aunt- I impersonated her, obviously- the rest was right now. So you have something to tell your friends, that way you wont be caught off guard."

"That means me living here is secret."

"Yes- Erin living up here is also a secret. As far as anyone is concerned, this place doesn't exist. So," She smiled. "mum's the word."

XXXXX

For the picnic (during class, after the school lunch, so they would not be disturbed), they went out into the grassy areas near the woods surrounding the school. They had dressed up for the occasion: Christine in a particularly flouncy blue dress, and little slippers. At Erin's request her hair was _not_ done up. Erin had on the characteristic slacks, but had on a double-breasted vest, and a crisp, white shirt. They sat down on a large white blanket, and began setting up everything.

"I'm going to make sure you eat this time!" Christine said, poking Erin in the shoulder.

"Don't worry, I'm hungry today."

"Today is so nice!"

"Indeed."

They began eating. In the traditional wooden basket they had packed tuna sandwiches, carrot cake, and fudge squares. For drinks they went simple and stuck with water.

It was quiet for a while, as they were content to enjoy being outside. They were also very hungry. At noon, the weather was mild, but it was just fine as the wind was very faint, and was no bother. Since they were by the woods, there was the scent of pine and cedar in the air, mingling with the aromas of their food. Christine never appreciated how a tree could smell until being inside of an old, dusty room for three days. Though it had gotten far cleaner since she'd been there. The blue of the sky made the colors around them even more vibrant. Erin was staring at her while she ate, but she was used to it by now, though she hoped maybe over time it would decrease.

"Could you pass me a water bottle?" Christine said.

Erin did so.

"You can start going back tomorrow, you know."

"Okay." Christine nodded. She took a fudge square. "Oh- these are sooo good, it just melts in your mouth! Where did you get these?"

"I know the kid of a man who owns a desert shop, he used to come to my house when we were younger. The cake came from there too."

"Really? I didn't know you had _playmates_, it's kinda cute."

Christine smiled.

"Yes, well, that's my mother for you- she invited tons of kids over throughout my childhood. There were always all of her friends, we were always having parties." Erin said this rather darkly.

"Did you not like it?"

Erin looked at her.

"No, and I liked the children even less. They were always preoccupied with the most irrelevant, stupid things. But I guess ultimately I'm glad they were around."

"Why?"

"Because they were sure fun to scare." Erin grinned.

"You'd play tricks on them?"

"Something like that…" Erin laughed. "They were far more showy than my little displays in the theatre. I convinced them my house was haunted- and after only one sleepover, none of them ever came to spend the night again!"

"You're the ghost of St. Cecilia then?" Erin just smiled. "I guess by now it's obvious, but a week ago this would've totally surprised me."

"What about you; what was your house like growing up?"

"It's always just been me and my dad. I've never had any other family, though I did play with the kids of his friends. Sometimes though we were living in their houses. We moved around a lot, my Dad was a traveling musician. Sounds pretty crazy nowadays, but he played the violin, and I would sing. We would go to carnivals, or theme parks, once we worked for a few months in Disneyland as an act. I _loved_ it there. But my dad grew bored, and we moved along." She shrugged a shoulder. "I was partially 'home' schooled, but I did enter a few public schools, in the few times we stayed in one place for over a year. I've always known about St. Cecilia. My dad went here, so he used to tell me stories about it all the time. That's why we got as many gigs as we did- it was his background, St. Cecilia's impressed them."

"So people just floated in and out of your life."

"Yeah. They did. Except my dad, of course. I always hated leaving a place, but at least I had my dad. Eventually, though, I kinda stopped making friends with people. I thought, what's the point of getting to no each other if I'm just going to leave in a few weeks, and never see them again anyways? You know?"

"Sort of, though it was backwards. I've lived in one house all of my life, with the same parents and sister. But they were distant- as I wanted them to be. Everyone else in my life changed periodically, new people would show up, my mother acting if we'd known them for years- and then people would fall off of the face of the earth and never be heard from again, or spoken of, they just stopped coming. Except for perhaps two of the girls, and their mothers- and we were not fond of each other." Erin paused. "No, there was one other…" Her eyes became vague, not looking at anything before her, but into her memories. "Daroga. A boy I've known for most of my life."

Christine wondered at the expression on Erin's face.

"He doesn't go to our school?"

Erin laughed softly.

"Oh no…_the Daroga_ hasn't shown his face around me for a few years now. He left with his father for the Bollywood industry, in India. My mother was quite distressed to see Daroga's father leave." She smirked.

"The Daroga? That's an odd name."

"That's his nickname, his _name_ is Rajani Kapur."

"Kapur? As in Kapur Records?"

"The same."

Christine looked at her, sort of unbelieving.

"You just hobnob with the richest around here, don't you?"

"It's an unfortunate side effect of having parents with money." Erin spread her hands, shrugging. Christine laughed.

"So, do you _miss_ him?" Christine said teasingly, leaning towards Erin.

"Why are you talking like that?" Erin missed the subtext.

"I mean, don't you miss him? Did you two have a thing?"

"What!" Erin voice clearly expressed her undisguised disgust. "Daroga? Never. That's…I was going to say gay, but technically that wouldn't be so. Let me try that again." She stood up straight and said as seriously as possible "That's so straight, Christine, how could you even _suggest_ such a thing!"

Christine laughed, Erin smiled at her. Christine sighed.

"It must've been wonderful, living in a beautiful house, with everything you could ever want." Christine said dreamily.

Erin chuckled.

"The grass is always greener, right?"

"It must've been nice having grass."

Erin had to laugh at that.

"Well, no life is perfect."

"Yeah." Christine sighed thoughtfully, "I really miss him."

Erin nodded. They both reached for the fudge.

Christine then thought of when she had discovered Erin was a woman…when Erin was crying. She had said something about her parents…Christine paused. Erin grabbed a square and bit into it. Erin noticed Christine had frozen in place, then she snapped out of it and took a square, slowly raising it to her mouth. She looked in a daze.

"Are you okay?" Erin said.

Christine looked up, wide-eyed, at Erin.

"Erin…"

The bell signaling the end of class sounded. At St. Cecilia's they used actual bells, located in the chapel tower. Erin's attention was drawn to the students, who looked quite small from where they were sitting, walking to their next classes. Then she looked at Christine, who was staring at her.

"Yes, Christine?"

"What did you mean…when you said _your father tried to see you?_"

Erin looked at the students again. There was a passing period of ten minutes between each class, even though the school was large, but not that_ large_, so students often took their sweet time going anywhere.

"Now, when did I say that?"

"You were weeping on the stage, clutching the piano bench- I wont ever forget the sight." Christine pulled herself closer, eyes glistening as tears threatened to fall from her eyes. "You shirt torn open, _blood on my hands_…every detail is engraved into my mind. Don't pretend _you_ don't remember. We can pretend that didn't happen- but obviously we still remember, don't we?"

"Do we have to talk about this now, when the day is so _comely?_" Erin rested her head in her hand, her hand covering half of her face. "Will you hold my moment of miserable passion against me forever?"

"I need to know what you meant when you said that."

"Said what!"

"Your father-"

"_Don't say it!"_ Erin hissed, head snapping to look at Christine with hard eyes. "I know what I said _very well_, dearest. Must I say what I meant? Isn't it obvious? You tried to see me- because you wanted my body- so did HE!" Erin cried, and curled over forward, legs and arms limply lying before her.

Her arms curled up to cover her head. Then a low whine began, growing into a wail, and curdling into a scream. Erin flung down her arms, bolting up, and sprung to her feet.

"He wont get out of my head!" She staggered away from Christine, then stopped at a tree, leaning against it. "You made the memories come back up, and now I remember everything, and it wont stop! I feel everything again!"

Christine stood up and rushed over, hands up and reaching out, she paused in doubt. Erin trembled, clenched fists sliding down the bark. Christine stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Erin's waist, closing her eyes.

"I want to help her…" they fell to their knees together. "I hope she'll let me!"

"_I can still feel his hands twisting in my hair!_"

Christine pulled her off of the ground, and Erin leaned back, hands pulling on her hair. Christine held her tighter.

"Erin, it's okay now."

"Dirty, filthy, wretched, tainted-"

"You're- you're with me!" Erin had resumed weeping, her hands resting on Christine's arms around her waist. "I'm the one who's holding you!"

Christine rested her head on Erin's shoulder, and began to hum. It was _Silent Night. _She continued, and for the last verse- sang. At her voice, Erin slowly returned from her mind, and to the world around her. Christine went into another song, and she hadn't thought about it, but realized she was singing _Somewhere Above. _She paused, thinking she should sing something more cheerful. But Erin moved;

"Keep singing, that song."

Christine resumed:

_Somewhere above the sun shines bright,  
People stroll in the open air,  
Somewhere above in a summer sky,  
Birds spread their wings and fly,  
Lost and alone in endless night,  
Could one imagine so dire a plight?  
In the darkness I cry like a child,  
Like a child I cry my lonely prayer,  
Somewhere above soft breezes blow,  
Clouds float in a lazy sky  
Somewhere above above me strangers meet,  
Lovers share a sigh,  
Lost and alone in endless night,  
Could one imagine so dire a plight?  
In the darkness I cry like a child,  
Yes, like a child,  
My lonely prayer I cry,  
Ah! My, my prayer._

They were silent. A gust of wind blew by and tossed Christine's hair about all over them. Erin took the locks about her, and ran her hand through them, watching them slip from her fingers.

"I had hair longer than yours once…I cut it off when he dug his fingers into it. I dug my fingers into _your_ hair, I am sorry."

She ran her fingers through it once more, watching the gold strands slide away.

"It's okay."

Christine closed her eyes and sighed. It was clear enough what had happened to Erin, though the details themselves were vague, not that she wanted to know them. But she wanted to know why Erin was still living with him…if it was still happening, and that's why she stayed up above the theatre, if this was the real reason she was so distant from everyone. But if Erin reacted like this at the mere mention of it, then finding out could be difficult.

"Let's go back to the blanket, we can nap there if you like." Christine said.

"Yes… let's go back…"

Christine helped Erin back, and cleared off the plates and left-overs carefully into the basket. They lay down, side by side, looking up at the sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Breathtaking."

Christine looked at Erin, and realized Erin hadn't been watching the sky at all. She was gazing lazily at her. Christine smiled, then turned back to the sky.

"Look at the clouds, Erin, that one looks like a cat."

"It does."

"And that one is a boat."

"Yes…"

"That one there is a castle."

No response. Christine looked over again. Erin had fallen asleep. Christine looked at the clouds, thinking to herself. Tomorrow she would go back to school, and things would almost be as if nothing bad had never happened. But, things had happened, things that shouldn't be ignored! She resolved to try to talk to Erin again…somehow, as gently as possible…she couldn't bare the thought that someone like Erin would be subject to a man- or anyone- in that manner. Not someone who shone so brightly. Christine thought of Erin's silhouette, with her glowing eyes. The image was fitting. Erin is surrounded by a lot of darkness, it seemed. But in her eyes, in her, there the light shines. A warm golden light breaking through. She smiled at herself, being so metaphorical. If only she could think like this in English class, she'd amaze the teacher. _What does the light represent? _She knew Ms. Kandsey would say. _What does it ever represent?_ Christine would say, in her smart aleck voice. _Love, duh._

_XXXXX_

Meg actually threw herself at Christine when she saw her the next day. And she did so very loudly, yelling;

"Where have you been? Jeez, Christine, next time could ya let me know next time you decide to drop off of the face of the earth?

"Sorry Meg, my great-aunt came out of nowhere, and she wanted me to visit her. Sort of a reunion you might say."

Meg grinned.

"You have family? Oh, I'm so happy for you! Last time I saw you…" Meg paused, and frowned. "I had just told you Erin was a girl, and you ran off, hysterical. What happened anyway? Where did you go?"

Christine looked at her, her hands in her pockets.

"I went to the theatre, looking for Erin- I couldn't believe what you had said, and I wanted to ask if it was true. But no one was there, so I wandered to the dorm, and went in my room- and soon after there was knocking at my door, and my great aunt- her name's Sandra- was there. And so we left from there. If there was any time, I would've told you."

"So you still haven't talked to Erin?"

"Not exactly…but I did talk to my aunt about it, cuz she noticed something was wrong. She said that I should be as honest with Erin as I was with her about how betrayed I felt…she was surprisingly understanding. She said it's up to me what to do. I'm not sure what that is though."

"Christine!"

The girls looked in the direction of the speaker, Ronnie ran up to them, and hugged Christine tightly.

"Oh, hi Ronnie." Christine put on her biggest smile, though she wasn't exactly feeling it.

"Are you okay? Why haven't you been around the past few days?"

"Calm down, Ronnie," Meg said. "Christine's great-aunt Sandra just kidnapped her out of the blue for a few days, to get re-acquainted."

"Her great-aunt?" He eyed Christine suspiciously.

"Yes." Meg rolled her eyes. "You are so paranoid. I feel bad for your future daughters."

Ronnie sighed, and the two girls moved on to everything Christine had missed while she was gone (not that she needed to catch up on work), and general chatter. Later, at lunch, Christine was heading to the theatre with her lunch, trying to go as quickly as possible so she couldn't be interrupted. She was walking so quickly, that when Ronnie suddenly appeared from around a corner, she almost ran right into him.

"Ah- Ronnie! I almost ran you over…I hope that wont be a pattern!"

"I agree, I'd rather not chip any more teeth."

"Well, I'll see you later." Christine started to walk off, but Ronnie stopped her.

"What's the rush? I haven't seen you for a while. Where are you going anyways?"

"Oh…just the theatre, like always. I like to sit around the scenery, it's so interesting to look at."

"Where were you really, all this time?"

"With my great-aunt, I told you."

"Then why were you out by the woods with Erin?"

Christine gripped her plate.

"I came back at noon, and Erin happened to see me when I was dropped off. She invited me to have a picnic with her for lunch- what were _you_doing out by the woods?"

"I wasn't out by the woods, your long, blonde hair is just very easy to recognize- and Erin would be known _anywhere_. I saw you during passing period. It looked like more than a casual lunch between friends._ Or are you and her just really close?_" He almost sneered as he said the last line.

"No, it's not like that. She was…" Christine bit her lip.

"She was what? Besides playing with your hair."

"She was _upset!" _Christine yelled, "And it's not even any of your business."

She turned from him and began to walk away.

"So let me guess, for homecoming she's going to be your Prince Eric?"

Christine spun around.

"Is that why you're acting so stupid? You couldn't handle being turned down? I said _no_ because I didn't want to go with _you_, not because I already had a date." She smirked, "And she's not going as Prince Eric- she's Phillip!"

Christine strode off triumphantly, Ronnie staring after her. She opened the door to the theatre when she realized what she had implied. She shrugged, she had just said it to piss him off. It didn't mean she was going to go. What a jerk! He really had changed from the little boy she had known. She heard the piano playing, and smiled. But going would _really_ get under his skin. If he was as much of a womanizer as everyone said he was…he'd be getting what he deserved, and it would be twice as humiliating if she took a certain someone along. She sang as she entered on stage-

"_Ohhhh, Erin…! _We have to take a trip to the city soon."

Erin turned sideways on the piano bench.

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because…" Christine placed her tray on top of the piano, and leaned against the side of the piano towards Erin. "I have to help you shop for your Prince Phillip outfit."

Erin looked away from her, smiling. Christine thought she heard a soft sigh.

"Yes. You do."

"It'll be so much fun, we can see what's at the movies, and whatever else. Make a day of it. I hope I can find a dress that looks like Sleeping Beauty's." Christine turned to face the rows of seats in the audience, smiling to herself. "I cant wait to tell everyone, they'll be so surprised."

"No, keep it secret."

Christine looked over her shoulder, brow raised.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because it'll be more _momentous_ to let them see with their own eyes, when we enter. The reaction of that moment would exceed anything you'd get now. And you will be the center of attention, perfect for the concert later- so everyone will know you and be pleased the moment you appear on the stage." Erin was leaning so her elbows were on her knees, one arm draped to point the floor, the other going up to her face, her fingers perched on her chin. Lips perused in thought, breaking into a smile. Her head turned to Christine. "That's perfect. Barnum would be proud of my brilliance." She laughed.

"Barnum was a circus owner." Christine said, half frowning. She was facing Erin again at this point.

"He was, but what made him infamous- and his circus famous- was his tricks of drawing the masses to his exhibits through attention getting devices; such as the promotion of hoaxes and paying homeless men to do odd tasks in public areas."

"That's kinda neat."

Erin shrugged.

"We could take break from rehearsals this week, if you like, until after Homecoming…"

"We may have to, just to get ready!"

"How long does 'getting ready' take?"

"Well, everything must be perfect," Christine said "the clothes have to fit, and then there's hair, make-up, shoes…it's a process."

"I never thought I'd skip school for _shopping_. We'll go Wednesday."

Christine then proceeded to talk about all of the things she wanted to go and buy, eventually sitting on the bench beside Erin, who just grinned, not really listening to what she said. She was just happy to hear her.


	10. Attempting a Return to Normalcy

It was Tuesday, and Erin said she would be busy with concert business, so Christine did something very rare: sit with her friends for lunch. Or friend, who had _her_ group of friends, who would be Christine's friends (or at least friendly) by association. She hoped.

Meg was happy to see her, and Ronnie was also, acting as though they had never argued about anything. The others were Jonathan, Meagan, and Joyce.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Meagan said to her, but looking at Jonathan, who was staring at Christine, smiling pleasantly. She nudged him.

"Hey!" He said; whether as a greeting to Christine, or protest to Meagan was unclear.

Joyce rolled her eyes, a large smile on her face. Christine felt uneasy at the way her mouth seemed to twitch at the ends, from trying to hold the grin.

"Ignore them-" she gave a laugh that matched her smile "So we finally get to meet the mysterious Christine. It's about time you finally decided to poke your head from out of the shadows."

"Right? She practically lives in the theatre!" Meg said, chuckling.

Christine sighed, a lop-sided smile on her face. She was still standing, holding her tray with both hands, as a sort of barrier between her and the gazes of Meg's friends.

"Well, aren't you going to sit down?" Ronnie said.

Christine nodded and did so, between him and Meg. They were on one side of the table, the other three on the opposite.

"What have you been up to?" Christine asked Meg. Meagan and Jonathan began talking amongst themselves. Joyce stared into space while Ronnie listened to Christine.

"Not much, my life isn't very exciting. But I guess it's good not to have drama, you know?" Christine nodded. "But the other day my brother came up to visit from Pennsylvania, and my family went out to eat. We went to Gladstones- it was pretty cool." She paused. "Oh, and he bought me a necklace, for missing my birthday during the summer. See-" Her hand went to a thin silver chain around her neck, almost a choker for the length of the chain. On the end was a little heart with a ruby in the middle.

"That's pretty." Christine said, smiling appreciatively. "It's simple, but pretty."

Christine's smile flickered. Ronnie's knee was touching hers. She moved her legs together.

"How about you?" Meg asked.

"I've been rehearsing like crazy for the concert, but this week I have a break. Besides that, just the usual: nothing."

"I was hoping you at least would have something interesting to spill, especially since you're with Erin so much that we barely see you. But I guess we're all just too mundane to have exciting lives." Meg pretended to pout, but laughed quickly after.

Christine shrugged on shoulder. Ronnie was sitting closer to her. She could almost feel his leg creep closer.

"I'm curious," Joyce came out of her stupor, and looked at Christine. "You're around Erin almost constantly, when Erin ignores virtually everyone else…I mean, what is she like? Besides stand-offish and brooding- we all know that."

"Well, Erin is…well…" Joyce leaned forward, eyes fixed on her face. Christine smiled weakly and looked to the side, trying to think of an answer to satisfy her. Because actually saying what _Erin was like _would take too long, and the answer was too personal. "It's hard to say, because though I see her a lot, we don't really _talk_. It's mostly rehearsal. She is sort of my vocal coach. I've never known anyone as talented as her when it comes to music."

Joyce leaned back, looking down at the table briefly. She was hoping for greater insights than that.

Ronnie scoffed.

"She's a lot more than your _vocal co-_ACH!" Christine had rammed the heel of her foot into Ronnie's shin, which was easy to find as his leg had begun rubbing hers.

"Why do you want to know anyways?" Christine asked, ignoring Ronnie. "Why is everyone so curious about her?"

Meagan's attention was drawn, and subsequently Jonathan's.

"Easy; nothing she does makes sense." Meagan said.

"Code for- everyone always thinks she's a dude when they first meet her." Jonathan added. Meagan glared at him. "It's true! Even I did, then most people eventually figure it out. Some never do though."

"Yes…but the thing is, _why_ does she dress and act like a man? Why does she sit in the theatre playing the piano all day- when she doesn't need the practice? How is her voice so perfect? Why does she pretend none of us exist, and when she does address you- she seems to stare right through you?"

"_Exactly!_" Joyce looked at Meagan. "We've talked about it a lot- _who_ is Erin? None of us even know if she has family! We don't see her, but she's everywhere. Everyone thinks of her, you know, and of course there are other things."

"Most of us believe that she's the theatre ghost." Meg said. "So then, it's like, how does she do all of that? She's not like the rest of us. And we don't have any reasons for anything she does…so naturally we wonder."

"I think you girls make too much out of her. She just likes her space, and she probably had tutors as a kid, like the rest of us- except obviously she did better. Just because you all get a crush on her before finding out she's a woman you obsess over everything about her. I think you cant get over the fact that she tricked you."

"No, she's just different- I…I cant put my finger on it, but there's just something, you know?" Meagan looked at Joyce, who nodded.

"Or maybe they're all _still_ in love with her, but don't want to admit it." Ronnie said.

"Yeah, I think you're right. Don't you agree, Sis?" They looked at Joyce. Meagan turned to her.

"No, that's silly." She said more strongly, to convince Meagan that she was on her side. "We're definitely not."

"_I _think that all of you boys are just resentful that she doesn't like any of _you._" Meagan said. "Or you're jealous that you don't get that kind of attention she does."

Ronnie laughed.

"_Me_ upset she doesn't like me?"

"Well, she _is_ the only girl in the school who hasn't gone stupid over you-" Meg began. Christine noticed that they all briefly glanced at her at this point. "She hasn't so much as looked at you."

"I would care why?"

"Because you're ego is like a giant upside down pyramid made of thin glass. The faintest breeze wrecks everything and throws you into a demented tizzy." Meg said.

"Sorry, but we all remember how you reacted when Amanda had to break up with you, even though it was only because she was moving." Jonathan said.

"Well- what do _you_ think, Christine?" Ronnie said, a faint pink hue coloring his face.

They all looked at her. Christine stared at her almost empty tray, and sighed.

"I'm around Erin all of the time…and it seems when I'm away, everyone is talking about her. What happened to normal conversation?" She paused, looking up at them. "I think everyone in this school, girls, guys, teachers, are all obsessed with Erin, and your thoughts, emotions, lives revolve around her- even though she almost is never physically before you! Why? Why don't you just live your own lives, and worry about things that are substantial?"

"You're one to talk." Ronnie said.

Meagan and Jonathan were whispering to each other, quietly arguing.

"Could you stop!"

"What are you talking about-"

The group had turned it's attention to them.

"Um, I need to get something from my locker, could you help me?" Meagan said, Jonathan nodded. They got up and let, Meagan clutching Jonathan's sleeve. Joyce fidgeted.

"I, uh, need to talk to one of my teachers about a test…" She left the table.

"They have their own stew of drama between them." Meg explained to Christine. "Jonathan and Meagan are dating, obviously. Meagan and Joyce are best friends, but Joyce and Jonathan are brother and sister, and very close. So things are always awkward between the three, and aren't helped by Jonathan's _wandering eyes_, as you saw when he was gawking at you."

"Isn't high school wonderful?" Christine said dully.

"Oh damn, I forgot!" Meg said, standing up. "I have to go get something from my math teacher- I'll see you later Christine!"

"Oh, okay- bye Meg!"

Meg smiled at her, then at Ronnie behind her, and walked off. Christine noticed she looked back when she threw away her tray.

Ronnie's foot was pushed up against hers.

"I'm going to go throw my tray away." Christine said, standing.

"I'll go too."

They walked and tossed their Styrofoam trays with the others.

"How have you been?" Ronnie said warmly, Christine walked to the table they had been at, but he put his arm across her shoulders and gently steered her towards the empty hallways.

"Fine- uh, I want to go sit at the table."

"I want to go someplace more private…" Christine's face snapped to look at him. "I want to apologize." He said solemnly. "Really."

"Okay…" She reluctantly walked through the halls.

"I mean, we've been friends for _years_. We should get along. We're best friends, childhood friends, and I shouldn't have acted the way I did."

"It seems the normal reaction for you." Christine said dryly.

"That may be acceptable for other girls, but you're not just any girl."

His hand grasped her shoulder, and he pulled her nearer than was friendly. Christine pretended to look around at the trees, so that his face couldn't linger in front of hers. But she did glance over, and found his eyes boring into hers. They were a simple, uncomplicated blue. The flat color had a curious effect of reflecting everything back perfectly, and she could see herself gaping at him.

"I accept your apology." She said distractedly, gently pulling out of his grasp.

She turned around, putting a few feet between them, they stopped walking.

"But I didn't say I'm sorry yet."

"That's fine, I know that's what you meant." Christine smiled weakly and stepped backwards. "I'm going to get my things for my next class…bye."

She turned around the corner and ran before Ronnie could protest. She actually did have to go to her locker, though she was relieved to get away from Ronnie. He sounded sorry, but meanwhile would try seducing her at the same time! And she was sure Meg had purposely left…but she guessed that she had only the best intentions…The rest of the day she couldn't stop thinking about how annoying Ronnie was being.

XXXXX

The trip to the city wasn't particularly eventful in the grand scheme of anything, but it was one of the most pleasant days of either of their lives. Erin, lounging in a chair, watched Christine try on more dresses than either could remember. Most didn't even remotely resemble Sleeping Beauty, but were tried on simply for the fun of it. They ended up walking out with more than one dress, along with a near perfect replica of the blue and silver dress. The Prince Phillip outfit was easier to compile as there wasn't so strict of an appearance guideline, but they had to go through several stores to assemble a complete costume. They didn't go to the movies while out there…but Christine did spot an ice-rink.

When they put on their skates (rented), Christine glided out across the ice. The cold air seeped through her skin, but as her body warmed from pushing forward on the skates, the bite went away. She spun around, her skates throwing flakes of shaved ice.

Erin was gripping the entrance way onto the rink, no one else behind her. She was staring at the ice, eyes wide. Christine could see her legs trembling, skates unsteady on the small square of ice leading into the open rink. Erin's gaze darted to Christine, and Christine adverted her eyes. But Erin knew Christine had seen her hesitate, and so, with lips tight together and eyes narrowed, Erin pushed herself forward. And she whizzed out towards the middle of the rink, body tense, and she gradually started placing on foot in front of the other. Christine came closer, and Erin passed her, grinning smugly, as she was gracefully moving…towards the wall. Erin looked forward at the last moment, and smacked into the glass. And stayed against it.

Christine slid over, as Erin pushed her self away from the wall. She lost balance, and her feet danced and arms reached forward for the wall, but she fell back- Christine was there in time to catch her. Sort of. Christine lost balance and fell on her butt, clutching Erin. Christine went into a giggle fit, letting go of Erin and rolling over to her side to get up. She stood up shakily and saw Erin was holding onto the side of the rink, not facing her. Christine stopped laughing.

"Are you okay?"

Christine put a hand to her mouth. She was always afraid of Erin's temper…and now it seemed it would be harder to avoid, being combined with delicate pride. Erin started shaking, and it sounded like soft crying. Christine pushed her self closer- then Erin turned to her, grinning- she was laughing!

"How do you-" more laughter, Erin turned so her back was against the wall, the end of her skates dug into the ice to keep her stationary. "how do you stop in these?"

Christine lowered her hand to her chest and sighed, laughing along.

An hour later, with Christine demonstrating, Erin was flying past the others in the rink, and attempting spins and one-eighty turns. She settled eventually for simply skating around the perimeter with Christine.

"Is that why people come here, just to skate in a circle and talk?" Erin said.

"Well, yeah. It's nice, isn't it?"

"Yes, but Erin thinks that simply _walking_ around while talking would suffice."

Christine smiled.

"You might as well say people should just sit and talk and not even bother with walking!"

"No…it just seems time spent skating would be better used for…skating. Learning those spins that you do so well, and being agile enough to dance on the ice. People dance on ice, don't they?"

"There's many musicals on ice actually."

"Really?" Erin's face brightened. "That's wonderful!"

"Maybe if the costumes weren't so gaudy." Christine did a smooth spin, never slowing behind Erin.

Erin did the same spin, but with leaping in the air. This lead to a mini competition, the both of them still going around the rink. After going around once they ended up racing to the other side- they both turned sharply to the side, shaved ice flying up in a cloud. Christine came to a stop, standing on her skates; Erin kept moving, having to step forward to regain her balance and grab onto the wall. She looked back at Christine, standing straight. Christine shook her head, then tilted it to the side, smiling.

"You have to be the best at everything."

Erin skated up beside her, and they resumed gliding along the ice nonchalantly. She ran a hand through her dark hair, shaking out white flecks of ice.

"No, Erin just loves a challenge. It makes things worth doing."

"Why don't you play any sports?"

Erin's mouth twitched before blandly smiling.

"Why would Erin want to waste valuable time on something like that?"

"Why would you want to waste valuable time talking while skating at an ice rink?"

"Christine has a point." Erin looked forward. "There are other people in sports, Erin doesn't really like people…they like touching too much."

"Well, that's just a part of sports, it's very physical." Christine paused, "When you are playing in a game- it's the same consuming, possessive feeling of playing music; the difference is that instead of going somewhere inside of yourself- your energy is directed outward. Everyone is trying to be the best." Erin was still looking forward, but Christine could tell she was thinking about what she was saying, as her eyes were glazed over and she lightly bit her lower lip. "And when it's a team sport, you're all trying to beat the other team together- and so naturally its normal to be close as a group, and people who feel close to each other might hug a lot or playfully hit each other. But just as often they're not _that_ touchy-feely."

"Why doesn't _Christine_ play a sport then?"

"I don't have the drive for it."

They left a minutes later, as the rink was closing for several hours for cleaning. Christine said she was hungry, so they went out to dinner before finally returning to St. Cecilia's.

XXXXXX

When Christine walked up to Meg's table and put down her tray at lunch the next day, Ronnie stood up and hugged her, picking her up and spinning her. Christine complained the whole time, and sat on the other side of Meg- away from him. Meagan and Jonathan didn't leave early that day, so she didn't get stuck alone with Ronnie again.

She felt oddly disappointed as she walked to class with Meg after the lunch bell had rung. She shook her head, she was being stupid. Then she felt a tap on he shoulder, and Ronnie swept by her, waving briefly before disappearing into a classroom. She smiled against her will, after waving back. Meg grinned at her, nudging her with her elbow.

"Stop it." Christine frowned, and Meg rolled her eyes.

Erin came to rehearsal after school that day. Christine still went to the official rehearsals for the concert, the break was from Erin's tutelage at lunch. So far they were only two to three days a week, but starting next week, rehearsals would be everyday. Christine was friendly with most of the performers, the rest having an indifference normal towards someone who hadn't been at the school very long.

When Erin arrived, everyone cried out. It seemed almost scripted how everyone's head turned to her as she walked across the stage, talking quietly to each other. Erin stopped at the bottom of the stage and turned around to face everyone: she would be directing rehearsal today, as Mr. Bradley was out the rest of the week.

She then proceeded to lead them through warm-up, everyone standing at attention. She paused now and then to correct certain students, who trembled at being found at fault, but as soon as she passed on would look dazed and forlorn. Those who sang under her instruction seemed to glow, and their voice soared. Erin's advice was sound, but what truly lent to the improvement was the desire to please she inspired. They ran through the whole performance twice, then went by each person, telling them what to work on. Everyone then practiced on their own. Rehearsal was half-an-hour longer than normal, but no one complained.

Except Carla, during individual practice. She walked up to Erin, who was sitting at the piano watching everyone.

"Why haven't you given me any corrections?" Carla stood leaning on one leg, arms crossed. Her red hair was braided today.

She shivered when Erin's yellow eyes rose up to take her in, from the ground-up; slowly moving over her face, then stopping to look into her own eyes.

"Why is your hair braided today?"

"I…was…" Carla looked away briefly, shaking her head "what does that have to do with anything?"

"When you put up your hair, it's impossible to fully appreciate it's full grace and beauty. Does the lion ever braid his hair to please the peacock?"

Carla felt her face tingle. On a literal level Erin was speaking near-nonsense, but it came off her tongue with such a rhythm that it stuck in Carla's head. To her it made perfect sense.

"I didn't know…" Carla mumbled. "My friends said my hair looks wonderful braided."

"Of course they would. That is what the peacock tells the lion, so that his brilliant mane wont any longer outshine the peacocks tail."

Carla's braid was draped over her shoulder, and she held the end in both hands, contemplating undoing the plait.

"Wait-" She flung the braid back over her shoulder. "Why haven't you given me anything to work on? You've given everyone else something- you can't ignore me like that."

Erin smiled.

"You're upset because I _didn't_ criticize you? You have a wonderful voice, and thus nothing to improve on; that should make you glad."

Two sophomores stumbled up, giggling nervously at having almost tripped over each other. Erin turned her attention to them, but without excluding Carla.

"Hello Sandra; Delaney;" Erin smiled warmly, "How are your songs coming along, you're both sopranos from the second ensemble piece, right?" The girls nodded.

"Yeah." Sandra said.

"We were wondering if you had any more tips for us…we want to be soloists next year…we hope." Delaney smiled, looking down.

As Erin began talking, Carla began to understand, in a concrete way, _why_ Erin was so popular. Carla couldn't figure it out because she had never seen Erin interact with other people- only herself, and during those moments she was so entranced that objectively seeing what it was about Erin that drew people to her was impossible. It was like…sinners…Carla thought to herself…people were drawn to Erin like sinners to a cathedral. They had the same look of awe and humble dread on their faces. Erin was imposing and beautiful just like one of those ancient medieval palaces of god, but inside…there was warmth and purity, and hope for salvation. Erin drew you in because you hoped to be saved. Everyone was hoping to be allowed inside the dark cathedral, because they could see the fantastic light that shone out through the stain glass windows- filling the world outside with a million colors…Carla realized that Erin and the sophomores were staring at her. Had she been gawking at Erin? Her face flushed.

"Yes?" She said, in a solid tone, as if she had been paying attention the whole time. Maybe this was why bookworms tend to be awkward in public, she thought.

"Having the most impeccable technique, I thought you could help out Sandra and Delaney, and pass on some of your knowledge to them. You are their idol, apparently."

Carla stared at the two girls, who beamed at her.

"Okay, well, let's come over here…" She gestured across the stage, and the two girls followed her. She didn't feel comfortable teaching around Erin, she couldn't think clearly around her.

While the sophomore sopranos practiced the technique she had just shown, she would watch Erin- admiring from afar, if you will. She had slowly come to terms with being passed over for the lead solos, as Christine (whom she had talked to now and then) was very talented, and a tiny bit better than herself. Though she wouldn't say that to anyone else, but she knew it. And Christine was a sweet, naïve-seeming girl, not really deserving of any ill will. Especially as she herself didn't fully esteem her talent. Carla was far more confident, and so satisfied herself with being a better performer because of it. Sandra wanted to know how to expand her range, so Carla had to look away.

Eventually Carla noticed that Erin _wasn't _observing all of them, as assumed. Erin's gaze was fixated on a certain point, because every time Carla glimpsed over, her eyes remained looking in the same direction. And they were not unfocused as if staring off in thought. Carla looked across several times, searching for what Erin was watching. Or who, it turned out.

Carla wasn't sure the first time if she was correct, but when Christine crossed the stage to get something from her bag, Erin's eyes followed. It was her! Her jaw clenched, knowing that obviously the new prima donna was _the favorite_…and possibly even more.

She decided to not act right now, but keep watching to really see what was going on. Rehearsal ended then, and the sophomores said goodbye, she waved. Carla made to look as if she were leaving, but lingered in the wings, "digging through her bag for something". A few others lingered, saying goodbye to each other and Erin. Christine was among them, and she was standing next to Erin. The last of the students were walking through the wings past Carla, and she paused to stare.

Erin bent her head down to Christine's ear, and the girl giggled, playfully hitting Erin on the shoulder. They turned their back to Carla, and Erin put her arm around Christine, hand running through her long golden hair. Erin was pointing up towards the rafters, telling her something. Erin let go and turned back, so her face was back in view, eyes alight under the black curling hair. Carla stared at the color for a moment, and how it never reflected anything, but swallowed all light in it's blackness. Erin was smiling, her face lit up. Carla knew that look, as nearly everyone who approached Erin had the very same expression. She backed towards the theatre door. She was half-way through the door when Christine dropped something and quickly turned from Erin. Erin's eyes were curiously wide, mouth down-turned. She went down to one knee to pick up what looked like a ring, her wraithlike figure lending incredible grace to the pose. Carla was mostly out of the door, head peeking through, hand holding onto the door-frame, not wanting to be caught but wanting to know what was going on. This was a unique moment to see Erin in.

"Wait! Christine…Erin is sorry."

Carla was able to hear most of what they were saying, as they felt freer to speak up, believing no one to be listening.

Erin remained on her knee, Christine turned halfway towards her, head down, hands clutched together over her chest.

" …I just wasn't expecting …. not your fault."

"…is in two days…know how Christine feels…"

Christine offered her hands to Erin, who only stared up at her, expression calm. She said something, head lowering once briefly. Christine drew back her hands a little, but bent as if about to kneel-

Carla pulled herself through the door, heart feeling about to burst. She'd seen enough, and didn't want to see what she thought may have been about to happen. The door shut quietly before her, and she stood in the darkness.


	11. At Last, Love! but far from finished

Rehearsal was over, and Christine walked over to Erin, who was surrounded by others saying goodbye. As the last few were exiting through the wings, Erin looked over at Christine, and grinned to herself. She looked so wonderful, even doing nothing. She leaned towards her, bending down her head to whisper in a mock-discreet tone:

"Thank god that's over, I could barely bear the noise."

Christine looked at her, smiling, then promptly turned up her face and said in a snooty voice.

"That's terrible to say, we work very hard."

"You're quite right. Erin was really talking about first period choir."

"_I'm _in first period choir thank-you-very-much!"

She playfully hit Erin's shoulder, giggling. Erin grinned to herself.

"Well then all that can be done is to do the Charleston and hope no one notices the girls who got in through sucking up Mr. Bradley-"

"What!" Christine laughed, eyebrow raised. "_That _was random. Even for an eccentric musician who sleeps in an attic."

Erin put her arm around Christine's shoulders, feeling her hair pass through her fingers. They both looked up at the rafters for a moment, then: "Yes, well, there's not much that can be done about that. But moving on…"

Erin's hand came out of her pocket, and she held it high, something sparkling between her fingers. Erin turned to face Christine, taking her arm off her, and taking Christine's hands and putting them together.

"What's this?" Christine said, eyes full of the question.

"Call it a sign." Erin took her hands from Christine's.

Christine looked down at her hands, and opened them- and her face took on the expression of a gasp, though the sound did not accompany the visual. Her hands parted, and flew back towards herself, dropping the object as if white hot.

A little ring fell to the floor, and bounced twice. It was a simple band, of various metals to be the exact shade of gold as Christine's hair.

Erin kneeled to the ground to pick up the ring, looking at Christine, who had her back turned to her. Erin's yellow eyes were wide, her hand trembled faintly as it picked up the golden band. Christine lowered her head, and looked as if to walk off.

"Wait! Christine…" Erin clutched the ring in a fist.

Christine was still.

"Erin is sorry."

She thought she might be rejected, but hadn't thought Christine would react with such obvious distaste. A moment passed, and Erin was about to get back to her feet, but then Christine turned her torso towards her, head lowered to look at her. Her hands were clutched together in the air, in front of her chest, as if catching her heart before it could fly out.

"No, it's okay…" Christine started quietly, "I just wasn't expecting something like this." Erin's hand holding the ring lowered to rest on her thigh. "You didn't do anything wrong, it's not your fault. I'm just surprised."

"Homecoming is in two days, and Erin wanted to know how Christine feels, but now Erin knows how Christine feels; that she is unhappy!…for being forced to live above, for all of Erin's brashness."

Christine closed her eyes for a moment, smiling ruefully.

"You think that's how I feel?"

She opened them and held down her hands out to Erin, a silent offering to raise Erin up to her feet. But Erin stared up at her, face serene, a faint smile upon her lips. She willingly stayed there on her knee before Christine.

"Erin has been selfish. But she cannot help it." Erin lowered her head slightly, "Because all of this has been…for love!"

Christine drew back her hands from Erin, a reflex from the shiver that shot through her. The way Erin said "…for love!" resonated with her. But then she stepped closer to Erin, captured in her champagne eyes. Christine bent down, as if to kneel, but stayed only slightly lowered. Erin looked at her, head tilted, uncertain.

Christine felt lightheaded, and an eerie feeling of familiarity rose up through her. She felt her face flush. What was the name of this feeling? It was like dread, but not unpleasant.

"Is something wrong?" Erin asked.

"I want to say that…" Christine felt a tingling in her neck, a hot flash across her face. "I…" Her brow was pensive.

"Yes?"

Christine stood up, turning the upper half of herself away. Erin rose to her feet.

"Look at me." Erin said, in a solid tone. Christine obeyed, face still down turned so that she was looking up through mascara-coated lashes. "It's really true then, isn't it?" She said excitedly, "I'm not imagining the way you look at me..?"

Christine's answer was a tiny smile. Erin hugged her close, Christine emitted an "oomph!" from the abruptness of being pulled forward, and Erin laughed softly.

"I cant believe you still love me." Christine sighed into Erin's chest, wrapping her arms about Erin's waist. "And I cant deny my feelings. In the end its all useless."

XXXX

"There. Are you satisfied now?"

God leaned back into his chair.

Lucifer remained looking at the floating image of Erin and Christine.

"Christine loves Erik, for his own sake, in spite of any physical, outward characteristic." God continued. "Are you listening?"

"Wait for it." Lucifer gazed intently.

"For?"

"Her to say the words. It's not official unless she says them."

Instead, there were no more words in the floating window. The two were kissing, and stumbling…as any common teenage couple, while moving towards the ladder leading up, parting once for Erin to grab Christine's bag. God smiled.

"Does she really need to _say_ what is obvious?" Erin's back was against the bottom of the ladder. They parted from one another, Christine began the climb first. "Look, Erik, as you can see, is behaving like any other person. In the moment, in simple feelings, simple wants. Isn't that what you wanted? Him to be like the others, rather than endlessly miserable?"

God and Lucifer watched the window.

"Erin realizes that Erin hasn't even asked about Christine's day yet; how was it?"

Erin looked up, then looked down quickly, face red and grinning. She had let Christine go first out of politeness, not thinking about the fact that Christine was in a _dress_. Christine appeared to remain oblivious to this.

"Oh, boring as usual. At lunch a couple I sit with was bickering as usual."

"Is that so? Who do you sit with?"

Christine reached the rafters, and Erin reached there shortly after.

"Meagan and Jonathan are the couple, then there's Meg, Ronnie-"

"That's why I need to hear her say that she loves Erik!" Lucifer looked at God. "Because I've seen how she acts around Ronnie. It's unconscious, though he will see to it that it doesn't stay that way."

"So now you're following around others besides Erik?"

"I need to. I realize that her saying it really doesn't mean anything…" he looked down "but it would be reassuring if she did."

"-sounds like besides Meg, you could use more entertaining company!" Erin said.

Erin and Christine smiled at one another. Erin went up the second ladder, first, this time. At the top, she dropped Christine's bag and pulled her up through the hole.

They looked around the attic, eyes stopping at the bed. They glanced at one another- then looked away. Erin walked over to the table, pulling out the chair, her fingers drummed along the top of it.

"Do you have any homework?"

"No…just studying for the English test tomorrow. On Macbeth."

"Of course."

Christine looked down at her feet, twisting her foot about.

"Wanna go to the dining hall for dinner?"

"Sure, sure." Erin pushed the chair back in.

God leaned to the side, head resting on one hand.

"You're just making up excuses. Is this about Erik at all? Or about you?"

"Nonsense!" Lucifer stepped back and sat down on a gilded chair. "The problem is that in spite of this moment- the story isn't over yet!"

"Yes…and the lesson hasn't been learned."

"What do you mean?" Lucifer looked over.

"You'll find out. Hopefully the price wont be too high."

"That is not in any way ominous…I don't like the sound of this."

Erin was still gripping the chair, Christine was walking by her, close enough to brush sides. One hand ran across Erin's sleeved arm, resting upon her shoulder, trembling. Christine stood behind her, Erin looked back at her.

"I hope you're not going to do something to them just to teach me a lesson!" Lucifer said.

"No, you know that I rarely actually _do_ anything these days, especially in the way of interventions. Things are merely going to play out as they naturally are bound to."

"Are Erik and Christine meant to not be together?"

The sun was beginning to set, and so the bedsheets cast off onto the floor were orange and pink in the sunlight. The room had an golden glow and the light filled the partially hung backdrops, so the far end of the attic was brightly colored with various colors and scenes. Christine's hair, as if fell across Erin's face, seemed to smell like dying flowers…but actually the air was full of the smell, from the lavender and roses beginning to wilt in the vase sitting on the table- and the scent of all of the dying flowers and leaves from outside, blowing in with the breeze. The coming night would be a warm one, a last reminder of the summer that's gone by…

XXXXX

It was entirely normal for Christine to not want to sit through a day of classes, just today the reason why had changed- and made it all the more annoying to have to deal with. But at least she had something nice to think about while in the middle of a dull lecture. Currently she was in pre-calculus. Dullness defined.

She had a silly grin on her face, the rest of the students struggled to at least appear to be paying attention. Naturally the others were wondering what her problem was.

Christine was absentmindedly etching a certain name into her notebook.

_It's like when we were together the first time, back when I thought she was a _he. _Yes…I've felt the same way the whole time. _She realized._Why did it ever matter that Erin was a woman…? Well, any other girl, I couldn't consider it. It's just Erin. But now it doesn't matter. To think I would be the one she wanted! When the rest of the school is crazy about her…ha, ha! I wonder what Meg would say if she knew! _Christine's smile grew a little wider at the imagined reaction. _If only I didn't have to sit through this, and just send all of the time down in the city with Erin. Or anywhere, really. Why worry about anything at all, if there's at least always us? Even a pop-quiz in _this_ class feels a little less intimidating, with that in mind._

She didn't know if she wanted to tell Meg just yet.

However, that turned out to not be an issue that day, or Friday, as she didn't see Meg at all, and Ronnie only briefly at break. She waved to him, and that was all. Her time was spent in the P.A.C., with Erin. They had resumed singing at lunch.

Erin had decided to start leaving the doors unlocked during lunch again, and once people figured out they could gather on the stage again, they swarmed in with their lunches. She played the piano, sometimes joining Christine in singing.

_How much better it is to have her with me! The atmosphere in here is so lively, just like when before I knew Christine…only this time I can appreciate it far more. Being alone is severely overrated, _She thought.

Over by the door leading into the choir room/ backstage, Mr. Bradley was watching Erin, who noticed him. He motioned for her to come over, mouthing _we need to talk_. She nodded, a frown on her face. She finished the current song, then stood up. Christine turned to her.

"Is something wrong?"

"No, I just need to take care of something."

"Okay…" Christine smiled.

Erin touched her arm. " I'll be back."

She walked off into the wing and through the door. Christine stood by the piano, alone. She looked around, noticing that most of the attention was on her, although they didn't stare, only glance over, wondering why the music had stopped. Christine sighed and sat on the piano bench.

Carla appeared from somewhere among them, stood and walked over to her. Christine had heard that Carla was upset with her for usurping her as the school "diva", but Carla had been very nice to her the whole time. Except for now her stare was a little cold, but she smiled.

"May I?" She gestured towards the piano.

"Sure." Christine made to stand up, but Carla stopped her.

"There's room for the two of us, you don't need to get up for me."

Carla sat down on the center of the bench, facing the keys. Christine faced the other way, but looked back to watch Carla play.

"I didn't know you played." Christine looked her curly red hair.

"Yes. Parents made me take lessons for years. Do you play?"

Carla began playing. Something slow, sad. Beethoven.

"Not really…maybe parts of two songs. Of _Fur Elise _and _Heart and Soul _."

Carla laughed. Christine looked down and smiled bashfully. She couldn't tell if Carla was laughing at what she said, or at _her._ What she said wasn't funny, at least she thought it wasn't…

"_Heart and Soul!_ That's the first song I ever learned. Do you know the lyrics?"

"There are lyrics?"

Carla smiled, not looking at her.

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Are you liking it here?"

"Yes…"

"You and Erin seem to get along very well."

Christine wanted to groan. That's what this was about, no one ever wanted to talk to her unless she was talking about Erin…except Erin herself.

"Yes, we get along very well." She didn't bother to keep the irritation out of her voice.

Carla glanced at her, an amused expression on her face.

"Doesn't sound like it."

"What? No…it's just- I don't think its really anyone else's business…"

"Just making conversation. So," She slid a little closer, still playing, lowering her voice a tad. "Has she locked you inside her room yet?"

Christine started.

"What are you talking about?"

"You can tell me, after all, I was once her favorite too…"

"You mean, you were kept…" Christine pointed upwards. "in her room too?"

Carla looked up, at the rafters. Her eyes widened. _No way…_

"The old theatre attic?"

"Yes…I don't get it- when were you kept up there?" Christine wrung her hands. She didn't like what this implicated. "When? How?"

"Well…she just took me, knocked me out and kept me prisoner for a month! It wasn't all bad though…she had all of my homework cancelled for that time…" Carla wanted to squeal as Christine nodded at what she was saying, her eyes troubled, mouth set in a grim line. "And every time I asked to be let out, she would go into one of her rages, have you seen her when she's angry?" Christine nodded once. "It's…I don't really like talking about it, it was…" Carla looked away. "horrible."

"I know." Christine said quickly. "But…"

Carla smiled, before looking up.

"I'm sorry…she told you that you were the only one, right? Her first and only love?" Christine looked down. "Erin's as much of a Don Juan as any guy."

Christine looked up sharply. "Don Juan?"

Carla felt exceptionally bold, and hoped she wouldn't go too far. Or say something too unbelievable.

"Has she given the 'Don Juan' speech?" Carla then added, with a bitter tone. "Or known as 'poor me I'm a girl and you don't love me you shallow whore' routine?"

"Yes!"

Carla wanted to grin, this was too good. Crazy though, because then Erin really is as nuts as she was trying to make her out to be. She was fine with that though, as long as Erin was _her_ nut.

"So she kept you up in the attic, which is where she lives?"

"Yeah…" Christine paused. Carla bit her tongue. "But…I don't want to believe you. But how else would you know all of this?"

Christine turned around on the piano bench so that they were both facing the keys. Carla thought quickly, then realized that she had one of Erin's notes, which she carried with her often. More often it was because she forgets to empty her pockets at the end of the day. She pulled it out and handed it to Christine.

"I still don't know how she did it, but she would always leave flowers in my locker with a note, usually just her initials."

"Erin has access to everything in this school, she probably looked up your combination." Christine traced the red ink. She recognized the sloppy letters.

She handed it back to Carla, staring at the piano keys. _This cant be real, but if she's telling the truth- then Erin could've done this whole thing with several girls before me! What have I been dragged into?_

"Am I going to be cast off too? She wouldn't…?"

"It's okay. If I had known about it, I would've warned you sooner…I'm sorry…it's just her nature. She can't ever be happy with just one person."

"No, it's not true!" Christine looked at Carla. "No one could fake those emotions…no one's _that_ good of an actor. No one could pretend to be so…tormented." She frowned. "But…no. I don't know."

Carla watched her. _Tormented? I suspected as such…but Christine makes it out to be serious. Erin confided to her? Told her about her secrets, her feelings? If only I had been the one she talked to!_

Erin appeared through the doorway, walking towards them. Carla stopped playing.

"Just think about what I've said." She glanced over at Erin, and smiled. She looked back at Christine. "Good luck." She stood and walked away, and outside.

Carla laughed as soon she was out, in the warm air. She felt a little bad at such gross abuse of Christine's trusting nature. But only a little. The girl would get over it. But Erin…wow! She, after all these years, now knew where Erin would go hide away to! But about the Don Juan and pity routine…she had no idea about that, and was just guessing off the top of her head. She only used Don Juan because he was mentioned in English class that day. Huh. Maybe Carla hadn't been lying about Erin- except, obviously, about being locked up in the attic. _If only I were so lucky!_


	12. Homecoming, and the All-Important Phrase

"I have a feeling that tonight is going to be a good night." Erin said as she lifted Christine from the bottom of the ladder, and spun her to the side till her feet touched the ground.

"You're not the only one, I hope it'll be fun!"

Erin began lacing up the back of Christine's dress. It couldn't be done before coming down to the stage, as the torso of the dress didn't allow for the type of movement needed to climb ladders. Other than that, they were ready to go in their Prince Phillip and Aurora costumes.

When Erin finished she rested her chin on Christine's shoulder, arms about her waist.

"Ready, Freddie?"

"Yeah." Christine looked down. She hadn't mentioned anything about Carla, but it was constantly on Christine's mind. She'd rather go on ignorant than have to fight the nauseating doubt. She looked at the piano. "Erin?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know how to play _Heart and Soul_?"

"Yeah…"

"Can you play it for me before we go? And sing it. I've never heard the words to it."

"Really?" Erin drew herself away, and led Christine to the piano. "It's sort of a silly, romantic song- that is, it depends how you play it." She sat on the bench, Christine beside her. "Do you know either part?"

"The lower half…"

"Okay, you play that, I'll play the other and sing- but as this is a duet, I think you can guess what song you'll be learning Monday."

They smiled. Erin stood and Christine traded seats with her so they were by the appropriate keys. Christine started…dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun- then Erin entered with the other half. They played together, smiling at one other. The Erin sang:

"_Heart and soul, I fell in love with you, Heart and soul, the way a fool would do, Madly... Because you held me tight, And stole a kiss in the night... Heart and soul, I begged to be adored, Lost control, and tumbled overboard, Gladly... That magic night we kissed, There in the moon ! but your lips were thrilling, much too thrilling, Never before were mine so strangely now I see, what one embrace can do, Look at me, it's got me loving you, Madly... That little kiss you stole, Held all my heart and soul."_

Christine looked up as often she could, to watch Erin, and to not hit the wrong keys. Erin glowed with the music…and Christine felt her worry melt away. _How could that be an act? _Forgetting the song, she lifted her hands from the piano- Erin paused, looking up. Christine put her arms around Erin and rested her head on her shoulder.

XXXXX

The float parade and inducting of alumni into the "hall of fame" had taken place earlier- the dance itself was starting, held in the events hall reserved for banquets and dances. Erin and Christine showed up through the doorway. It looked like an enchanted garden, crossed with castle. Fake flowers and delicate vines covering the stone walls of the old hall. A punch and chocolate fountain book-ending the table with snacks. Little round tables were spotted around the vast perimeter, each with candles…in fact, there was no other lighting. Off to the left was a curtained room with a sign outside saying "portraits". There was a music with a harsh, strong beat. The center of the floor was entirely barren. Except for a thousand grinding teenagers in formal wear.

Christine's face turned a little sour seeing the dancing.

"What is _that?_"

Erin laughed.

"This is a typical high school dance, my dear."

Everyone was busy, with the sights, sounds, and _sensations_…so for the first time, Erin was not noticed upon arriving. They went over to see what was being offered at the table. Christine liked being able to walk in with her, and not be stared at…the song ended, turning to something slow (clearly the DJ didn't know how to transition between moods). And that's when they were noticed.

Their costumes were better than everyone else's, who mostly settled for a typical dress and then a tiara and proper hair color of the princess they were portraying. The guys used it as an excuse to wear jeans and a white shirt, calling themselves 'Prince Eric'.

Erin turned around, holding two cups, and handed one to Christine. Erin put her arm around Christine's waist, drawing her close. She began to guide her to a table in the corner. Various girls came forward to greet Erin. Many stayed back, dancing slowly enough to see what was going on, and to talk. It didn't require much imagination to know what they were saying. The typical, obvious things. What was interesting was the different expressions on the faces of the others. Some actually became excited at the sight of them, rather than glaring at Christine. They waved, and held up their plastic cups. Christine waved back.

Erin pulled out a chair, and Christine sat. Meg walked up, with her date…Abel? Whatever his name was. Meg looked at them both.

"Hi Erin!" She said, grinning broadly. To Christine "Oh my god, you'll never belive what happened when they opened up the hall to let us all in- I need the bathroom, do you want to come with me?"

"Well, I just got here actually…"

"Oh, come on!" Meg grabbed her hand and dragged her off, then pausing to look back at Erin, "Don't worry, she's safe with me!"

Erin and Abel looked at one another, shrugging.

"Long time no see, Erin." He held out his hand.

"Good to see you Abe- have a seat." They both sat at the table. "You ought to come to the theatre more often."

Abel nodded, then looked off towards the bathrooms.

"Why do chicks always need their friends to go with them to the bathroom?"

"Not to use the bathroom."

"That's what freaks me out, always makes me feel a little paranoid." Erin looked over to where Meg and Christine disappeared. Abel continued, laughing nervously, "At least you don't have to worry as much, as you can go in there too."

Erin looked at him. He fidgeted.

"Did you ask Meg out, or did she ask you?"

"I did."

"So I may assume you like her a lot?"

Abel looked down.

"I needed a date, that's all."

"Right. She's the kind of girl that doesn't get subtlety, get it?"

"You mean…?"

Erin sighed.

"If you don't say that you want her, then she will assume you don't, and move on."

"Yeah…makes sense."

"Anyways, you know if we won the basketball game yesterday?"

"Yeah, we did. The team asked about you, as usual."

"Not interested."

"You should play, you know. We don't have a girl's team…but for you they could work around it. But that's my opinion- the guys were actually asking…." Abel smiled, and laughed. "I think you'll get a kick out of this."

"Yes?"

Erin crossed her legs, ankle over knee, and leaned back. Abel scooted his chair around to be closer and leaned on the table.

"They wanted to know if you had a date! Because they wanted…" Erin grinned faintly, looking off to the side, Abel laughed. "Isn't it ridiculous? I told them that there was no way."

"I don't understand it- why would they want to? Besides, they would've had to deal with a date who looked better in a tux than they did. I don't think they could handle that."

"Well…you know…" He shrugged. "you are the most attractive girl in the school. Don't tell Meg I said that."

Erin rolled her eyes.

"You should hope _none_ of the girls hear you- people mistake me for a man, always, when they first see me. I don't think" she smiled "the ladies would take kindly to being thought less attractive than a female who doesn't even look like one."

"True, but its just the facts."

"How is your brother?"

"Good, thanks for asking. He's a month away from his Ph. D."

"Wonderful." Erin looked him over, "Who are you supposed to be?"

"Prince Eric."

XXXXX

Meg dragged Christine outside.

"Hey, this isn't the bathroom."

"Well, duh. You know how many girls would be in the bathroom- no privacy at all!"

"What do we need privacy for?"

"I didn't want to make a big fuss in front of _your date _but you've done a one-eighty!"

Three people walked by behind them, and into the dance.

"Well…" Christine shrugged. "what do you want me to say?"

"Nothing- I'm just…hyper this evening!" She squealed. "Erin is your DATE!" she sighed. "Okay, I'm slightly clamed down. But seriously, I can say most of the folks in there would kill to be you."

"Why? I mean- I would too, but…I see. That's just Erin."

"She looks quite dashing- which Prince is she?"

"Phillip."

"So how did you go from '_ew, she's a girl' _to this?"

"Ah, well, it's….it's just that, you know. I guess that I was just in denial."

Meg nodded.

"When it comes to her, anyone who says they're not drawn to her is in denial. Personally I blame her good looks. No one should be that attractive." She laughed. "Okay, that's all, pretty much. I just didn't have the patience to wait to ask you Monday."

They began walking back to the door.

"Oh," Meg turned to Christine "one more question."

"Yes?" Christine said.

"Have you slept together?"

"What!" Christine turned red. "I'm not telling you, you big gossip!"

Meg started laughing.

"Oh my gawd!" she put her arm around Christine. "Alright, I wont beg to know. But I must say that I thought I told you to not sleep together on the first date!"

Christine playfully shoved her. Meg stumbled back.

"Whoa, you almost tipped me over!" They laughed.

"Don't wear such high heels then!"

Meg pushed her, and Christine laughed, trying not to fall over- but she backed into somebody, who caught her.

"Jesus, Christine, is this turning into a running gag?"

"Ronnie- hi!" She said, moving away from him, but smiling.

Ronnie was there, alone, dressed in shorts, sneakers, a t-shirt, and a black tailcoat.

"Wow, you look like you took hours to throw that together." Meg said.

"Ha, you look ravishing yourself." He grinned. Meg pretended to be insulted. " So, Christine, I see that you are dateless…" He moved towards her, hopefully.

"Ah, ha, _no._" Meg stepped between them, "Her date is inside, I'm as much as I love you, I'm afraid that you are simply no match."

"I bet not- who's the chum?"

"Erin La-vey, that's who." Meg said.

Ronnie frowned, and looked at Christine.

"I thought you were joking…well- I'm going inside." He turned and walked towards the door, looking grouchier each step.

Meg turned back to Christine.

"His ego's just hurt because you picked a girl over him."

"Let's go back inside."

"I'll race you!"

"In heels?"

"Hurry up!" Meg was already running for the door and went in, not looking back. Christine sighed and began walking over. She reached for the door when she was grabbed from behind, and a hand clasped over her mouth. She was spun around and saw Ronnie. He took his hand off her mouth.

"Let me go!"

"I just want to talk to you." He let her go. She immediately went for the door, "Stop!" His voice cracked and he started sobbing.

Christine stopped and looked back at him.

"Ronnie…I know what you're going to say, and…stop crying!"

"Why are you doing this to me? Don't you know how humiliating this is!" He moved towards her, Christine moved to another wall. "Do you hate me? Why are you going to such lengths to hurt me?"

"This has _nothing to do with you_! That's just really…conceited of you to assume that." Christine looked for away around him and into the dance. Ronnie was walking towards her.

"Christine, Christine, come on, Christine…tell me why you wont give in to me." Ronnie stumbled forward, Christine moved to the side, but he grabbed her and pressed her against the wall. "Don't tell me you love her. We're childhood sweethearts, Christine. I love you." he had stopped crying and was now sniffling, smiling at her. "This time…the other girls…in all of them I was searching for you- and here you are!"

"Get off me now, and I wont press charges."

"Press charges for what? For bearing my heart to you?"

"Ronnie, get-"

He kissed her. She tried pulling her arms out of his hands, and the more she resisted the harder he pressed her against the wall. So, reluctantly, she stopped resisting, and pretended to give in, kissing back. He smelled of cologne, the stuff from the drug store. Wasn't he supposed to be rich? Christine hoped someone would walk by, going to the dance, and help her- or that someone would come out- anyone! As she had planned he would he backed away for space, and he released her- but so his hands could roam elsewhere. There was no Erin to help her. She tried to ease out from under him, but he held her close to him.

"I knew from the way you looked at me, the way you would become flustered around me….I knew you felt the same!"

"Yeah, sure." Christine tried to subtly pull away, and failed.

"How about we go inside and show each other off?"

Christine answered abruptly.

"Yes! Let's go inside!"

He let her go.

"Well, I like your enthusiasm."

Christine darted from him, and ran inside. She looked around, pushing through the crowd, there were people inside now. It was hard to recognize anyone with the flashing lights, which must have been a recent addition. She tried calling for Erin, but she couldn't hear herself- the music was too loud. She wanted to cry, but she pressed around, looking at the tables. She didn't see anyone who might know where Erin went. Eventually she pressed through to the tables, and collapsed into a chair. She put her head into her hands.

"Christine, there you are!" It was Meg. "Where've you been?"

Christine looked up and stood.

"Oh thank god it's you Meg- I can't find Erin. Have you seen her?"

Meg tilted her head, and gestured behind her.

"I looked back and saw you weren't behind me, I told Erin you were probably still outside, and so she went to look for you."

Christine stared into space, feeling a chill.

"Oh my god."

"What's wrong?"

Ronnie walked up, putting a hand on Christine's back. Christine spun around and smacked his hand away.

"Get the hell away from me!" Christine felt ready to literally bite his head off.

Ronnie stepped back, surprised by her viciousness. Meg raised a hand towards Christine, taken aback.

"Christine?"

The music died. Everyone stopped dancing and looked around. They started yelling at the DJ, who threw up his hands. The lights turned on, harsh fluorescences, the hall erupted in a groan. The chaperones standing on the sides began running around. Christine grabbed onto Meg.

"What's going on?" Ronnie shouted, barely heard above the noise.

A huge gust blew through from the back, blowing out and knocking over candles- and then the lights blew out, sparks falling below. Screams now. Meg was digging her nails into her, the fabric of her dress providing only some protection.

A loud, resonating voice boomed:

"QUIET."

The others gasped and screamed, Christine thought she heard several whispers of 'theatre ghost'. _If only it were just a ghost!_

"Quiet…" _it_ said again. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, far and near. Christine trembled, because she knew the face of the voice. The eyes of the voice had seen her, and the heart of the voice had surely broke…

"Welcome…to endless night!" The voice laughed. Christine could hear voices of adults, quiet, and afraid- trying to gain control, but powerless, ultimately. "You live like this each day- surrounded by people, but alone- alone in the dark! Alone and lonely. Helpless…and hopeless. Sometimes you think you may see light, but it's your tired eyes playing tricks, yearning for something besides darkness…" Then they heard something odd. Weeping.

Christine started to cry too. There was the sound of a door opening- and shouts erupted.

"The door's open!"

But then white Christmas lights strung all over the walls lit up, providing the appropriate low lighting. Christine looked, and saw that people stopped rushing towards the door. They stopped and looked at the lights. Music came back, though the DJ wasn't at his stand. It was _Karma Police_ from Radiohead.

The expression on everyone's faces was generally the same- uneasy. Christine listened to the song, and wasn't encouraged by the lyrics. Meg slowly let go of her.

"What was that!"

"You don't want to know." Christine turned away and shook her head, hands at her temples. Ronnie wasn't anywhere to be seen. Probably ran out.

"Christine, what's going on?"

"Ronnie forced me to make-out with him."

"I'm gonna kick his ass! Where is he?"

Christine began walking slowly towards the door.

"I'm going home for the night."

"Wait, Christine-" Meg walked beside her. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, I just want to leave."

They were outside.

"Let me at least walk you to your room."

"I was going to look for Erin."

"I don't want you being alone- not after when I did, _someone_ took advantage of it."

"I _need_ to be alone, just for now."

Christine continued walking, Meg watched her go.

After a few minutes Christine took off her heels, and held up her dress so she could walk more quickly. She entered the P.A.C., and walked through the dark backstage. There was no hope of trying to find Erin back in the hall, from where ever she was speaking. She would just have to wait for her here. Christine felt a little queasy. She entered the theatre, the lights still on.

XXXXXX

Erin wiped her face before sulking out of the abandoned sound room. She exited out the door and down the stairs from the Events Hall. Students were filtering out of the dance, so she moved to stand in a somewhat concealed, dark area by a trash can and trees next to the building. She saw Ronnie walk briskly, looking around with paranoia. She saw Christine walking the opposite way, somehow ghostly in the light. Erin felt torn about who to follow. Ultimately she stayed frozen to the spot, the tension rising to a peak on which way to go, then dissipating when the moment passed and they both faded into the dark. She sat on the ground, back to the wall.

She had gotten a little carried away with pulling the light and sound stunt in the dance. But…it was this heady sensation that swept her up…she saw Ronnie and Christine entwined and reality melted away. Like pouring turpentine over a painting. Erin felt different than before when emotions got the better of her. She felt _disturbed_. Emotions so strong, didn't seem to be the norm. Was she really in control? _Ever?_

Normally, she would've brashly gone into the night and- and done what? Probably throw Christine out. Or Ronnie…maybe, maybe. It was possible she could go too far in the heat of rage. She burned a little with shame, remembering when Christine confronted her about being female. The reason she wasn't immediately doing something about all this, she guessed, was she just felt too deflated after what she'd seen. Confused.

After everything, after all the wild emotional ups and downs of her life and past few months, it seemed she'd just run out of drama fuel. A heavy sigh. The chill air creeps in through her costume, she doesn't really mind. Why not now to think it all over? Erin continued to sit, chest aching, head empty - in spite of her intentions to "think it over".

_Christine and Ronnie._

_Tonight it didn't make sense._

_Christine and Ronnie…_

_He'll do anything to get a girl. Doesn't matter if she wants to be got or not. He has been especially focused on Christine. If she did like him, why not accept his invitation rather than Erin's? Erin did give a choice, Erin thinks. The emotions make the past a bit fuzzy though. Maybe Erin didn't. And she was just afraid._

_Then its Erin's fault._

Meg had watched after Christine walking away for a bit, and now was walking towards somewhere Erin couldn't guess. Meg looked troubled, guilty. Erin guessed that, as she felt much the same. She was walking right by where Erin was sitting. Meg glanced to the side, seeing something in her peripheral and yelped a little, seeing Erin.

Well, she hadn't been trying to _not_ be seen, really.

"Uh, what are you doing over there?" Meg said.

"Feeling like crap, to be to the point."

Erin watched the change on Meg's face when she realized it was her.

"Erin! Christine was looking for you."

"She was?" Erin sounded so sad, Meg came over to where she was sitting, crouching in front of her.

"She was terrified you saw what happened with uh…" Meg paused, unsure if Erin actually did see.

"I saw _them_. Yes."

Erin wasn't expecting the hysterical outpouring that followed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I took her outside, I didn't know he was there- well, I mean we saw him, and talked, but thought he went inside or something and we went inside- or I thought we did, I did, She didn't come I thought maybe she ran into you." Meg paused, "But she came back in, furious, saying Ronnie had shoved her against the wall and started makin' out with her. Ronnie came in and she screamed at him, everyone would've noticed if the lights hadn't gone out. He disappeared when they came back on. And it's all my fault! I shouldn't have left her alone with him, ever. And she was so upset, because she thought you'd think she had cheated on you. I'm sorry, Erin, I really, really am."

Erin felt worse at this deluge of information. She remembered how she'd seen, and ran away. Not doing anything. Not pulling him off. Her eyes burned, she let the tears come. Shameful, shameful. Somehow she felt this was the truth. It felt like another broken promise on her part.

"I can't believe I walked away." Erin whispered.

Meg stood, reaching out her hands to Erin.

"Come on. You need to go find Christine, and talk."

Erin looked up. She felt afraid to take those hands. It was too much kindness. She pushed against the wall and stood herself up instead. Meg raised a brow, then rolled her eyes a bit.

"Tell Christine to call me. And, well, you can too, if you need back up or something. I fight dirty." She laughed at herself.

"I'll see Christine, make sure she's okay." Erin said.

"Good boy." Meg winked.

Erin smiled, that lopsided way, and chuckled. She turned and walked towards the theater. Erin added when she was further away, "Then I'm finding Ronnie."

XXXXX

Erin actually found Ronnie first. Which was a surprise as she wasn't looking to do so, but he had just slipped into the door to the performing arts center, having found it unlocked. She ran after him, catching him in the backstage area, where the props and scene pieces where kept. The door to the stage was open, lights on. Erin reached out and grabbed two fists of Ronnie's jacket, pulling him back with enough force to make him gasp. He stumbled back, and saw who it was.

"You!" He said. It was somewhere between accusation and fear.

Christine could be heard singing faintly.

"You need to leave. I'll talk to you later." Erin said.

Ronnie laughed, loud, mocking. He walked up to Erin.

"You don't scare me, little girl."

Erin punched him, right in the face. The intent was to stun rather than harm, but Ronnie reacted as if it had caused his face to cave in.

"Bitch! My Dad'll sue you- and your family, I cant believe this!" He wailed some, holding his nose "You're fucking Crazy!"

"Little girl…" Erin seethed as she repeated those words.

"Oh my god…" he continued whining.

Erin wondered why he wasn't trying to hit her back, she never would've thought he was that spineless. Too used to hissing and posturing, maybe.

Christine was in the doorway and reached in to turn on the lights.

"Erin! Ronnie?"

Christine and Erin walked to one another, both looking at Ronnie.

"I know what happened." Erin said. She put her arm around Christine protectively, eyes on Ronnie. He still gripped his face, but was staring at them.

"I'm sorry, It wasn't how it looked-"

"No, I know what he did."

Erin felt Christine shudder and lean into her, tension gone.

"Is this how it is Christine? Huh? You're gonna go fucking lesbian on me? That's real fucking clever. Fine. Fine!" he started stomping towards the door. He snapped back around. "And _you-_" He pointed at Erin. "you better watch your back."

"I know where you sleep." Erin said.

Ronnie looked about to laugh, but Erin's dead stare said she was serious. That coupled with her reputation made him turn white and scuttle out without another word.

Erin looked at Christine, and hugged her.

"Erin is _so sorry_ for not helping you."

Christine sighed into her chest, squeezing her arms around Erin's waist.

"I was so scared, Erin. Of what he was gonna do. Then of what you would do."

"He deserves what's coming."

"I meant, that maybe you'd leave me." Christine said, voice small.

"No." Erin led her into the theater, and towards the wing where the ladder up lay. "If what we have ever ends, it will be you who leaves. I never will."

They were by the ladder now, Erin stood by the side, gesturing for Christine to go up. Christine looked at her.

"I love you."

Erin felt light-headed. She leaned down, hand lightly holding Christine's chin, and kissed her forehead. She moved her hand to the back of Christine's neck, and rested her forehead against hers.

"Christine, everything's going to be alright."

XXXXX

Lucifer watched the two ascend to their room for the night. Christine had said _it_, no ambiguity or possible misinterpretation. He wasn't sure how he felt bout this. Anti-climatic, he decided. He didn't know what he was expecting though- fireworks? Atomic bombs and confetti? Wait. Those two don't really go together.

Erin/Erik had achieved the "ultimate goal", Christine's love and devotion. But what did it really mean to _him_, now that it finally happened? He expected, in a way, to be as transformed by Christine's confession as Erik. Or something.

Now they were like everyone else.

And Lucifer had no clue what it was he was really after anymore.


	13. Daroga Comes Home

_I just want to remind everyone that in the context of this story, God and Lucifer are fictional characters I have created to use in this story. Please dont become offended either which way as they are not indicative of my feelings on religion- here in this story, they are characters, fiction, nothing more._

* * *

"So? Are you satisfied?" God asked.

"No. And I dont know why." Lucifer sat on the floor, chin resting on his palms as he slouched. "I am glad that the story seems to have played out fairly this time... but..."

"You remain feeling empty, all the same."

"Yeah."

"Why dont you talk about that?"

"Hey-" Lucifer looked over at God in his chair. "No one asked you to play Freud."

They were in a study, but the room around them shifted (to suit God's will) into a creek lined by willow trees- seeming to stretch into forever. In the distance the Palace of Orderlies was visible, where the angel/entities responsible for certain tasks reported their progress, etc, etc. God was now standing, and made a gesture toward Lucifer.

"Walk with me, Lou."

Lucifer stood, his blonde hair a-glow like a halo from the light- even his blue eyes were luminescent. His face was set in firm lines, and his gaze was icy.

"From the beginning," Lucifer began, voice bearing the slightest quiver. "you have pretended to be the loving father- but all your promises fall short, every time." He stepped up to God, who smiled serenely back. Lucifer could sense other beings listening in, from wherever they were hiding. "And they call ME The Prince of Lies! You're the one who- through negligence or through malice- always lets something go wrong, always weasels through some loophole. I was never good enough for you unless I was a completely submissive dog like Michael! Instead of loving me, you threw me out of heaven- forever."

"That's not true." God said. "All who have repentant hearts are know that."

"And on top of all this- you expect me to apologize to you."

"Lucifer-" God's tone had stiffened.

"I'm supposed to be sorry for daring to oppose the will of almighty father- my brothers and I were meant for something more fulfilling than catering to your ego!"

"Silence!" God raised his hand to Lucifer, who slapped it down.

"NO." Lucifer stood tall, his voice booming. "Ive had enough trying to exist inside of your universe, your rules. I may have failed to conquer heaven and free my brothers- but there are powerful forces in the world, and I can overcome your will with them!"

With that- Lucifer waved his hand and lept through the portal to Earth. His entire being thrummed with energy- like there was electricity crackling away up and down through his system. It felt good to speak up again, to God's face, after so many millennia. To defy him meant... he was starting to become who he used to be, before having his inner essence ripped away by God.

XXXXXXXX

The past two weeks were peaceful for Erin and Christine. They, along with Meg, would often stroll around the school grounds together when not practicing for the winter concert which was now in about 3 days. It was the beginning of December, and the school, although not in a snowing region, was decked out for the holidays.

Ronnie slunk in the background for the most part, Christine worried if he was plotting something, but Erin and Meg doubted it. Frankly it wasnt his nature, they said- more of a in-the-moment-violence sort of fellow. Christine agreed, feeling more uneasy with that to consider. Carla occasionally tired to talk to Christine in a friendly, casual way, but Christine would avoid the topic of Erin and keep it shorter than not.

Erin continued to lead rehearsals, plying Mr. Bradley for funds to fulfill her vision for the concert. She wanted it to be more than a run-of-the-mill variety show that choir concerts seemed to be. There had to be a sense of flow, and spectacle- all to complement the music, of course.

With some pushing from Meg, (who was fairly well-known in the school in an underground sort of way- unlike the conventionally popular Carla) Christine began making her own group of friends. Erin still felt a bit bothered by it, but she saw how Christine seemed reinvigorated by being in company she enjoyed and so decided to try to find peace about it.

On the whole, Erin had never felt so content.

XXXXXX

"Hey, Lavey."

It was one of Abel's friends, with brown shaggy hair and blue eyes, and a member of the school's basketball team. He was part one of the tenors in the show.

"Hello, Michael." Erin turned to look at him, still placing her papers into her binder, and then into her bag. Rehearsal was over for the day. "Are you having trouble with something?"

"This has nothing to do with rehearsal, it's just something Ive been wondering for the past few years..." He put his hands in his pockets, biting his lip.

Erin paused, and they looked at one another. She put her bag on the ground.

"Alright."

"Well...why did you stop talking to us? The guys, that is. Why'd you drop off the team? You know with your family's influence the coach wouldve been happy to pull the rules a bit- you've always been a guy to us."

"According to Abel, "the guys" had an interest in me that would say otherwise."

Well- you are..." Michael shrugged. "You know... attractive. But besides that, Andrew has a male cousin who came out a few months ago saying he really was a woman inside...and some of us thought, you know, maybe you... you know..." He trailed off, looking to the side.

"Me? Transgendered?" Erin raised a brow.

"I suppose you could just be a lesbian. But... I dunno. You did pretend you were a guy for the whole year you were on the team. We've analyzed it, youre not much of a woman- er, no offense."

"Is this really what you wanted to talk to me about?" Erin crossed her arms. She'd forgotten how awkward Michael could be to talk to.

"You didnt answer my question, about not talking to us. That's what I meant to focus on."

"It wasn't the same after that day, that I was "outed", if you will. I felt overwhelmed." Erin sighed.

"I cant imagine how embarrassing it mustve been to have everyone find out you were really a girl like that."

Effortlessly, that day played through Erin's mind again.

Firstly it must be noted that Erin managed to fudge the information on her enrollment papers to say she was male (and remains as such still, although the teachers, for the most part, know better), which is how the coach let her on the team. The incident in question happened in the locker room.

Erin showered in the same area, but slightly off from all the other guys. She had a rather under-developed chest and was curveless at the time, so she'd have the towel draped over her shoulders covering the entire front of her body and calmly head straight to her locker to dress. They'd rag on her, but less than everyone else on the team. The coach had made it clear that Erin came to all of them from a family that contributed heavily to the school's funds, so they were to not so much as breathe on "him" unless they felt like being detained from sports for the rest of high school, or expelled.

However, one day after practice, the guys were hitting each other on the butts, first as custom- then playfully as a form of tag. Erin, who usually engaged in fooling around avoided this custom, the first time she was tapped by a team mate she glared at the guilty teammate, who's smile disappeared when he realized "he" wasnt playing along. Back to the day in question- the team was heading in, and the showers were on. And a game of tag had started as they undressed and some guys were already in the showers- Ronnie being one of the more aggressive jokers. He also used to be on the team. Without really thinking about it he hit Erin as "he" passed by the showers, with only "his" towel about his shoulders as always, on the buttock, and "he" was so startled "he" fell against the shower wall and under the water, soaking "his" towel.

Without thinking, and in the span of a second "he" whipped his towel into a rat-tail and snapped Ronnie (who like half of the team, had no qualms about walking around naked) in a rather sensitive place below his navel.  
While Ronnie cursed and whimpered in agony on the floor, Erin realized she had made a grevious error as her teammates who at first were howling with laughter at Ronnie noticed her and an uneasy silence quickly settled down. Erin hastily wrapped her towel about herself, and rushed to her locker. She dressed quickly, her hands fumbling with her shirt buttons. Her knees felt weak. On the way out, none of the team was to be seen.

Later that week she was called into the Coach's office. Coach Higgers was unexpectedly delicate looking for a sports coach, with graceful features, he was also younger- late twenties. His appearance belied his top-dog personality.

"Lavey, I was wondering why you decided to play hookey from practice all this week- as to me you dont seem like the type of young man-" Coach Higgers winced, "Person, to do that. Then some of your teammates enlightened me as to what happened in the locker-room on Tuesday."

Erin stared at the floor. After a few moments Coach sighed.

"Lavey, make a habit of looking at people when they speak to you." Erin looked up, her hands grasped tightly in her lap. "And I know as amazing as I am, I cant read minds, so speaking up would be appreciated as well."

Erin smirked in spite of herself, then resumed her somber expression.

"Coach, I dont want to be on the team any more."

"I realize that what happened mustve been awkward to say the least, but..." Coach paused. "Youre a great asset to the team. Ive talked to the team about this, and we can keep a secret- if youre still committed to playing."

"I dont know. It wouldnt be the same."

"Im telling you this for the team's sake- they have stepped up and said that they still see you the same way. They dont want you to leave. You had your reasons for pretending, even your papers say youre male. So, it's up to you, but I would hope you'd give it a second thought. Youre fast, and sometimes you've come up with better plays than me. It'd be a real loss."

"Im sorry, Coach."

Coach Higgers ran a hand over his hair, sighing.

"Well...if you change your mind, you know when try-outs come around next year. Have a good day, Lavey. If you need anything, you know where my office is."

"Yes, Coach. Thanks."

She walked out.

Word leaked out to the school, rather inconsistently, that Erin was female. And she withdrew most of her interactions to the Performing Arts Center, becoming something of a hermit, other than when she'd go to class. She only saw the team passing in the halls, and didnt do more than give a nod of acknowledgement. Ronnie dropped out of the team soon after. From guilt or peer-pressure, or if the coach dropped him- Erin didnt know.

"I mean, most of us walked around naked around each other-" Michael continued, "But as a girl... it's different."

"It wasnt so much that, I dont know..." Erin sat on the piano bench. "It's hard to explain. My secret was out, I didnt want to be thought of as different, as part of "the other team"- a girl." Erin looked off to the side. " I wasnt used to so much...friendliness, I guess would be the word- it made me uncomfortable, yet I didnt want to lose it. Maybe it doesnt make sense, but I felt that it was lost in that moment."

Michael put a hand on Erin's shoulder.

"I'm sorry you felt that way."

"So, there's your answer..." Erin stood, picking up her bag.

"Look..." Michael said. "It would be nice if you came by and hung out. Even just at lunch or something. It's senior year, and after this... who knows where any of us will end up. I for one would prefer that that day wasnt the end of it."

"I'll think about it."

Michael sighed.

"Alright. That's all, I guess. See ya later."

"See you tomorrow."

XXXXXX

The next morning Erin received a rare phone call from her mother. Christine rolled over in the bed and saw Erin standing by the table, looking dazed.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

Erin looked over at her, and smiled.

"The Daroga has been staying at Erin's house for a few days now."

It took a moment for Christine to remember, then she sat up.

"Oh! Are you going to go see him?"

Erin nodded.

"Yes, immediately." She walked off to her bag, which Christine realized she mustve already been packing for the past few minutes. "Erin will be gone for a few days... perhaps Erin can drag him back to see you sing... Either way, Erin will return in time for our concert."

Christine stood and hugged Erin.

"Sounds like fun." Christine smiled. "Come home safe."

XXXXXXX

Gerard pulled up to the front of the house in the family car, and Erin stepped out. The sun was almost at midday. Gerard would also bring her bag up to her room after parking. She walked up to the door, brought out her key and walked right in as was her custom. Amelia was standing in the foyer with a young man with a dark complexion. Erin stopped and stared at the man. Amelia squealed, seeing her and ran over, throwing her arms about her. Erin patted her head. The Daroga turned and returned the stare, walking to her.

"Erin Im so happy to see you! Why did you take so long to visit again?" Amelia went on and on.

Erin mumbled a response, eyes not leaving Rajani's.

He spoke with a smile, voice matured greatly since last they met;

"Good to see you." His eyes glowed with feeling.

"You too, Daroga."

Erin grinned when he winced. She let go of Amelia and Erin and Rajani slowly began to circle each other.

"You still call me that?" He chuckled. Amelia watched them circle, the intense stare not abating. They studied each other with an intimidating silence that made Amelia step back and take a seat at the nearby piano.

"I see you still remember, at the least." Erin replied.

They stepped closer to one another, even walking in a circle, like two predators sizing each other up. An equal still? He was gracefully slender, and dressed far more dapperly than was common for boys his age, in carefully tailored clothing. Handsome, yes. So far like herself, yes.

"I see you've grown into a rather lovely young man." Daroga smirked, thinking he'd get a rise out of her. Amelia's face showed that she feared as much.

"Im glad you think so." Erin said, far too proudly. Daroga started, not expecting that. "I hear that from the girls quite a lot."

"Um- Erin." Amelia spoke up, they paused and looked at her. "Mother said she would be back tomorrow, she went to visit a friend who's in town-"

"I see she hasnt changed then in her habits." Erin lifted a brow, a faint sneer on her face._ Mother, still promiscuous._

"And Father is in his study, do you want to say hello? He'll be happy youre here."

Erin's sneer deepened for a microsecond before replying; "Hardly. I believe the Daroga and I have catching up to do." She looked at Rajani. "There's a small town with this rather unusual coffeehouse. Shall we go?"

"Yes, that sounds interesting- if it is indeed unusual." He cocked an eyebrow, expecting an elaboration. But Amelia spoke instead.

"Could I go?" She stood. "Please?"

It crossed Erin's mind that the plea in her voice was rather extreme for such a small thing, relatively. She discarded the thought. Amelia probably didnt want to be separated from Rajani, being the emotional, boy-crazy teenaged girl she was. Erin put her hand on Amelia's shoulder- but Rajani actually spoke up first;

"Amelia, if you wouldnt mind, I'd like to have private time to talk with Erin, she is an old friend, and it's been too long since last we met." He smiled at her, pulling on the charm.

"Oh..." Amelia said, looking down. "I guess that's alright..." She looked at Erin intently then, slowly taking a step back. Erin felt caught off guard, feeling as if she was expected to insist Amelia come along.

"...I agree, I'd like that myself." Erin said.

"Alrighty then." Amelia smiled suddenly, voice overly chipper. "Have fun you guys." She turned to walk across the foyer and walk up the right grand staircase.

"We'll be gone the rest of the day." Erin replied.

"I'll be in my room, see you two at dinner."

Erin stared hard at her as she went up, trying to glean any clues.

"So do we need to drive, or can we walk there?" Rajani said.

Erin reluctantly turned her eyes away from the stairs.

"Too far to walk. I'll drive us."

Rajani and Erin went out the front door and took the long walk through the grounds to the car-stable. The pebble path crunched beneath their feet, and the willow tree tendrils rustled in the breeze. The sky was veiled over with clouds, and it smelled of dirt from the recent rain.

"What brings you back, Daroga?" Erin saw her breath turn into vapor.

Rajani was walking a little behind her, and she could feel his eyes on her. She was in her usual prep-school influenced dress, with a sweater, button-up, oxford shoes, tie, and a tweed coat.  
Dark colors. Not much for a man to stare at, in her opinion.

"My father was out for business, and he allowed me to accompany him. I always wanted to come back. There is much to see and do in the States." Rajani paused. "I missed you, my old friend. No one else Ive befriended so far was as clever or mischievous."

"It's good to see you." Erin walked more slowly, forcing Rajani to walk at her side. She smiled at him, golden eyes luminescent. "Tell me of your adventures, Daroga."

"Back at home? Ah, well. Nothing too exciting in my opinion." Rajani shrugged. "I went to school, I had friends and girlfriends. My father sometimes dragged me along for me to observe his work, but... I dont share his passion." He paused, staring intently at Erin.

"Hmm."

"He is disappointed and hopes I'll change my mind. There's just no pull to this music- business for me, certainly not the business part. I love music as much as the next person, but not enough to make a career of it. I dont know what my passion is."

"A common dilemma... I suppose you'll just have to experiment till you find that thing which makes you happiest."

"Is music the thing that makes you happiest?"

Erin put her hands in her pockets and looked down as she walked.

"Well...I dont think it could be called happiness." She thought a moment. "But I could not do anything else and live. There is nothing else that completes, fills, me like music. It's like...like I couldnt exist without it, cant imagine it." She looked over at him, and his eyes were still upon her. "Does that make sense?"

"Yes." There was a swell in his voice, "What a blessing."

"Like I said, I wouldnt say its happiness. Its far greater than simply that." Erin turned the conversation back to him. "Surely, there's things you enjoy that you could turn into something profitable?"

"Im 19, I dont know what I want. I find most people our age dont know what we want. I do know that I am lucky to have grown up as I did, and yet those who grew up with nothing have so much more fire than I have ever had." It was now apparent to Erin that Rajani liked to talk with his hands, though not to an obnoxious degree. "Once there was this girl, she had worked and earned her way into the school I was attending- because it was the best. She was the best in class as well. Looking at her I would feel that my own life was so empty and superficial. All I had cared about was being seen- with the most beautiful girl, the best clothes, the wittiest stories and things to say, and on and on... nothing that lasts. There was nothing that I was willing to struggle or strive for."

"Sounds like something happened more than just seeing this girl in your school."

"The stark comparison was obvious to me. My peers still think nothing of it. We will never have to work to live. We may only have to work if we wish to make a difference in this world, or if we want to achieve something of worth in our lives... that somehow that is less motivating than if we were born in the dirt."

"True for most."

They came upon the entrance to the car-stable, a door which led down a long hallway, and to a pair of gates. Erin had the keys for all the locks. Gerard was likely busy with some task in the house, she felt like driving herself anyhow. She led Rajani to the corvette.

"It's not the fanciest car, but I admit its my favorite." She said.

"And neither of us had to work for it."

"No..." Erin unlocked the car and they got in, she left the roof up. "I didnt ask to be born rich, just as the poor didnt ask for their plight. But here we are."

She pressed a button on her dash and the stable gate opened. She started the car and drove them down the path and off of the estate. The little red corvette was the only car on the road. Imposing trees hid the horizon in all directions.

"What has happened with you all of these years? What about your life?" Rajani said.

"Hmm." Erin kept her eyes on the road, not looking at him as she spoke. "Obviously, I've been in school... with all the tribulations that a private semi-boarding school can offer. Ive remained involved in music competitions and have a few offers for college. I have a few pieces Ive been working on for a while..."

"Well, my father is still fond of you. Perhaps I can bring you with me when I see him for lunch tomorrow."

"Perhaps." Erin said.

"Anything else? Any friends, or other people in your life?"

"Well." Erin paused. "There's this girl."

"Yeah?"

"Something about her, she's different from anyone else Ive ever met. Literally, Daroga, I felt like I knew her."

"Maybe you did, in a past life. I dont know if you believe in reincarnation, but... I certainly do. Maybe we knew each other too. Sometimes I feel like I know you better than I should."

"Is that so?"

"I always knew it was you pulling those ghost tricks, I didnt have to figure it out. The strings in the curtains and everything else werent what gave you away. I bet you never stopped your ghost-act just because you went to live at school."

"No. I didnt." Erin grinned, in spite of herself. "Too bad you didnt get to see. It was magnificent."

"Everything about you feels bizarrely familiar to me. Even your moody temperament. I've only just seen you again, and the feeling was immediate." Rajani said.

Erin felt an excited chill run through her. What he was saying seemed very right to her, and she wanted it to be true, that the familiar-ness she felt with Christine and to a lesser extent, Rajani- went deeper than a mere feeling.

"You know, I always thought you were less idiotic than all the other children." Rajani laughed. Erin continued. "But, familiar is a good word, there was a sense of kindred-ness."

"So- this girl, is she your friend?"

"Ah-" Erin turned faintly red. "No."

"No..?" Rajani looked at her, confused.

"Her name is Christine. She goes to my school, lives there full-time, actually. She has no where else and no one else. I heard her before I ever met her- for weeks I didnt know who's voice it was." Her voice began to float. "I was at the piano, and I heard the voice. And though I didnt know her I_ knew_ her name- somehow. I havent told anyone that..." She looked over at Rajani briefly, and saw that understanding had dawned upon him. "I shouldnt have known that. But there she was, and I knew she was meant to be there... it was... it has been... a rather interesting time of it."

"Oh." Rajani said.

"She is singing at a school concert I directed. In two days, actually. Perhaps you should come and watch."

"I'd like to."

"My mother said you've been at the house for a few days, I hope that it was tolerable."

"Of course. Say... what's this place we're going to?"

"Ah, it's called the Fiddler's House, and- ah, damnit."

"What?"

"I forgot to bring my violin. We could play to the room there, Ive done it before. Or privately else where, its fun. And I could play some of my original works."

"Well, let's go back and pick it up. We're not too far away, maybe fifteen minutes."


	14. What's Wrong With Your Eyes?

As they drove up to the house about twenty minutes later, it began to rain heavily.

"Do you have an umbrella?"

"No-" Erin shrugged, opening the door. "Its just water. I'll be back."

"Alright."

She entered through the front, soundlessly walking through the dark mansion- rain dripping from her hair. The violin should be in her room, so she went up the stairs and down the hall. It was dark on the second floor as well, which was enough to make Erin pause and look around, her body tensing and moving into a defensive posture. She felt the knife clipped to the inside of her pants, assuring herself. After a moment she eased slightly and skitted over to her door which was on the right side of the hall, not eager to be there longer than necessary. Normally she was at ease in darkness, but the darkness in this house left her feeling exposed rather than hidden.  
She placed her hand on the knob when she heard something- like a lamp thudding on carpet- and soft cursing. Her body became rigid as wire.

The noise came from her father's room.

Erin felt as if she was floating out of her body. Her eyes were wide as saucers, her hand clenched onto the knob. Then she heard a cry- a young, female cry. Erin's mind came crashing back into her body and she crumpled to the floor. Because then she knew. How could she not?

She heard the muffled cry again and the images flooded her mind- Amelia, Amelia... Amelia's eyes so eager those many times she asked to sleep with Erin in her room- and she had said no, Amelia's arms wrapped around her so tight as she pleaded for Erin to come back to visit soon every single time she was home from school...and finally, her father's hands (twisting, twisting) in her own long, black hair when she was a child.

The cold door against her forehead and the sound of her rattling breath brought her out of her memories. Grasping the knob again, Erin pulled herself to her feet. The hallway went on for nine more feet before splitting into three directions; forward, right, left. Josiah's bedroom was down the left hallway. She pushed herself down into the left hallway, the double doors were closed. The temperature was markedly less, and Erin guessed that Josiah's balcony doors were open, inspite of the downpour.

She walked down the middle of the hall in slow-motion, afraid of the walls, her mind screaming to stop, she didnt want to see, she didnt want to seeshedidntwanttosee- her hands fell upon the handles and she pushed forward...

The doors flew open and cracked against the walls. There they were, upon the bed. Josiah had his trousers down and Amelia pinned down, naked, there was red on the sheets between her legs- this image filled Erin's eyes. Amelia gasped, however her eyes were much too flat.

It was like a switch flipped in Erin then. She sprinted and lunged at Josiah, who whipped his gaze upon her in time to catch her. But the force was enough to send them both to the floor.

"Get your hands off of me you damned girl!" Josiah strung off a litany of more graphic curses during the whole course of his struggle with Erin.

Erin didnt say a thing, but was entirely focused on disabling Josiah from moving anymore. She punched him in the face and received a knee in the gut, which gave Josiah enough leeway to shove her off and move towards the balcony- which was indeed wide open as Erin had assumed. Wasting no time Erin sprang from the ground while Josiah's back was still turned and threw her weight into a kick into the back of his knees. She stepped forward and put her hands on his shoulders to shove him forward and onto the floor. He landed on his hands and was going to spring up but Erin jumped onto his back so he smacked against the floor, with the wind knocked out of him. She grabbed his hands and pinned them on his back under her knee. Her knife was already out and she pressed it against his throat, her other hand holding his head up by his hair. He was laboring for breath.

Over on the bed Amelia remained much too still, eyes wide and set upon Erin.

"You..." Erin growled at her Father. "You... why didnt I ever get rid of you before?"

He tried to shift, but then she moved the knife and promptly smashed his face into the floor- she pulled his head up.

"This is your fault." Josiah said. "You couldve told about me, but you didnt."

Erin beat his head against the floor a few more times, with each contact he would grunt. She stood and pulled him up to his knees. When she did he sharply jerked out of her grasp, and stood. He shoved her to the ground, and stood over her. She kicked at him, but he caught her ankles and held her legs together with one arm, pulling her up so he could reach her pants buttons. Her shoulders and head were the only part of her still in contact with the floor.

"Looky here, maybe I'll finish where we left off. You can start being a woman today, ey? There's still a girl's body under those boy clothes, I bet. Why dont we find out?"

Erin let out a snarl and stabbed Josiah through the side of his left knee. He screamed, letting go of Erin who crumpled to the ground and rolled over and stood up. Josiah was kneeling on the ground, and Erin kicked him in the face. He lost balance and fell back on his butt. Erin looked down at him and huffed. She straightened her posture and grinned.

"Oh good. Now you cant run away."

His eyes were wide, so wide, and she would never forget the fear there.

"Oh my god- Erin!" Rajani cried from the doorway. "Amelia!" He ran to the bed, removing his coat and wrapping it around Erin's sister.

"Call 911." Erin's voice was throaty. "Tell them there's blood everywhere."

XXXXXX

Christine had received a phone call from a total stranger who identified himself as Rajani Kapur and that she would be picked up by the Lavey Family Chaffeur to bring her to Erin at once. He refused to explain what happened over the phone but said it was an emergency.

The long black lincoln pulled up and she let herself in, and found herself seated next to a handsome indian man who looked at her with a vaguely disappointed face.

"Christine Dane?"

"That's me- and youre Rajani?"

"Yes." He paused. "Erin was right, you are quite beautiful."

He said it with great melancholy, Christine attributed it to the emergency that occurred. With great tact he explained what had happened, leaving out just what had happened to Mr. Lavey. Christine was quite horrified by the end of it.

"Oh Erin!" Was all she could say, over and over.

Rajani stared gloomily out the window during the ride to the police station. He told Christine they had been there all night. They got out of the car and went inside and were led to the room where Erin was being kept. Once again money and the influence of the family name won out, even in the face of murder. It was in fact self-defense- even though the excessive brutality wouldve been rather suspect if committed by anyone else.

The female officer opened the door to a very plain, almost empty room- nothing but a desk with two chairs. The dark, lithe figure of Erin was seated upon one, and she slowly turned her head to the door.

Christine knew Erin was not the same, when their eyes met. It was her eyes, those golden eyes, there was something sickly about them. Erin stood in her slow graceful way, expression unchanging. Christine noticed her pants and shirt sleeves were caked with blood. Erin's eyes urged her forward. The Officer notified them that they would be free to leave any moment- and mid-sentence a man came up to her telling her that they were now free to go. Christine took Erin's hand and they were all guided back to the lobby. When they went outside they saw Amelia was standing there with Mrs. Lavey, who was in a blue pantsuit. They were both quite pale in the face. But for Sarah Lavey, she was pale with fury.

"You!" She shrieked at Erin, pointing her finger. "You!"

Erin drew herself up, standing an entire foot over her mother. Having to look up at such an angle seemed to anger her more. Words frothed from her;

"Oh- wipe that superior look off your face- are you proud now? This is all your fault, you smug piece of shit!" Erin looked down at her, face stern. Christine and Rajani stared in horror, too stunned to interrupt. Sarah continued, more incensed at Erin's lack of response. "Why didnt you say anything about what he had done to you? Maybe we wouldnt be here now if you hadnt been such a selfish little coward- think of your sister! You couldve spared her! They told me what you did to my husband-" She looked at Erin in her bloody clothes as if seeing a demon, "What are you? How could you-"

"SHUT UP!" Christine screamed.

"You stay out of this- who are you?" Sarah shrieked back.

"Im Erin's girlfriend- and how dare you speak to her that way!"

Sarah sneered, looking at Erin. "And youre a filthy queer on top of that? Im not surprised."

"What kind of mother are you? This is your perverted husband's fault, not hers! I cant believe this!" Christine shouted, looking at Erin for any sign of a reaction.

"Look-" Rajani put a hand on Christine and Erin and pulled, "Let's just get going."

Erin looked at him, and he let go at once.

"And where do you think youre going? Not to my house, I hope you know." Sarah jeered.

"My Father can arrange a hotel room for us, Erin." Rajani said.

Sarah had her hands on Amelia's shoulders. Erin was staring hard at Amelia, who was looking back at her with a helpless, pleading look.

The lady Officer stepped outside and shouted at them;

"Move along folks, if you make trouble, you'll have to spend the night again."

"Let's go Amelia." Sarah haughtily turned away and began dragging the girl with her. "You wont be seeing that abomination again."

Christine let out a small growl and pitched forward ready to grab Sarah by the hair- but found herself caught by Erin's arm. She paused, and looked up at her- and in spite of her anger, found that a shiver ran through her. Those eyes.

Erin let go of Christine, and then walked up behind Sarah and Amelia. From where Rajani and Christine were, they saw that Erin grabbed Sarah, and that oddly she didnt wrest herself away. What they couldnt see was that Erin grabbed her by the neck and pressed her against Erin so that by leaning back oh so slightly Erin actually had lifted Sarah an inch off the ground without all the weight pulling down on her neck. Sarah could scarcely gasp in her shock, let alone protest or move away. Amelia noticed this but was too afraid to do a thing. It occurred to Erin in that second that Amelia had watched her murder their father. Brutally. Slowly. As he begged... blood lust temporarily overcame her, and for a whole moment she merely held Mrs. Lavey against her and off the ground, in silence. Sarah began to squirm, which brought Erin back. She lowered her back to the ground but didnt let her go.

"Stop." Erin said. Sarah was still. "You... should die."

This was said very matter-of-fact. She released Sarah, who turned and looked at her in a very queer, vague way. Looking at one another, it seemed the truth spilt out. Sarah had known. She ignored what was happening, glad she was no longer bothered by her husband's interest. They both knew this. Somehow, without speaking, this was all made clear between them- and most of all, to Sarah, who till then had hidden her own selfishness from herself. Sarah then walked off to her car without Amelia, and got in. She drove off.

Amelia was white with terror by now, and ran toward Rajani, who took her into his arms and cooed at her. He motioned for Christine to fetch Erin.

They were driven to the Lavey Estate, at Erin's insistence, by the family chauffeur. Sarah's car wasnt there, but it was still crawling with detectives. They would have to stay in the guest house until the detectives had recorded the crime scene to their satisfaction, although, it seemed a moot point, as Erin would not be held accountable under the circumstances.

xxxxxxxx

Rajani was making tea, he leaned against the counter to face the girls while he waited for the water to boil. Christine and Erin were slumped at the table. Amelia was cleaning up in one of the washrooms. Christine was on the phone with their school, who had been notified by the police of the basics of what was going on. They had called the house line to speak to Erin's parents. So much for that.

"They're more than happy to reschedule the concert, Erin..." She said feebly.

Erin glared at her.

"Absolutely not. We will not put everyone else out."

Christine told the school they needn't do that.

"They say that they think under the circumstances that you would be more than excused if you...ah, felt you needed time to yourself...and didnt participate- if you felt you needed it." Christine said all this reluctantly, rather knowing the violent response this would cause. Her discomfort was so great that she didnt wait for Erin to react, but said to the phone; "She insists on going on. I think she needs something else to focus on- so please dont try to talk her out of it!" Christine sighed. "Thanks... I'll be with her, if you could tell my teachers as well, if that's okay? Thanks. Thanks...bye."

She put the phone down on the table, and stared into her lap. She felt a hand on her face and looked up to see Erin lean forward and give her a kiss. Erin drew back and sat in her seat, golden eyes looking at Christine. They still looked sickly and cold, even looking at her. How different from the bright, sunny warmth she was used to! Or even the dark, rage-filled amber she feared... Christine was altogether too nervous to smile or react, and she saw Erin turn more gloomy and look away because of this. The guilt was instant, and yet she found herself unable to speak.

"What tea would you like?" Rajani said. He had his back to them, pulling silvery cannisters out of the cupboard. "There's quite a selection. Not as vast as mine though." He smiled at Erin, hoping she caught his snooty tone.

Christine looked confused. She didnt know there was more than one kind of tea, the kind that came in a mug, hot, with a limp black tea bag in it. She didnt care for it.

Erin stood, and went over to Rajani.

"You must understand, although it is no excuse, that this is only the guest house. I assure you that in the main home our selection surpasses yours in spades." Erin said, in a deadpan manner. Rajani made his own demeanor equally deadpan. The comedic tension was such that Rajani wasnt sure if he was going to laugh, or if Erin was being serious. He chuckled when Erin's eyes narrowed and a small smirk pulled at her mouth. Erin looked over at Christine who was now lingering by them, looking at the tea.

"Its loose leaf." Erin said mildly. "I'd like the white tea myself. You shouldnt let the water boil, itll be too hot for it." Erin looked at the time on the stove. "It should be about the right temperature by now."

"I know how to make tea, Im not a barbarian."

Christine watched Rajani scoop dry, curled pale leaves into a sort of sock sitting in the mouth of a ceramic pot, and then pour the steamy water into it over the leaves. He set the time on the stove for seven minutes. He smiled at her.

They noticed then that Erin had walked out of the room.

XXXX

Erin found Amelia sitting on a bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms, staring into space. She was wearing jeans and a tshirt, white, and her long brown hair was partially dry and neatly combed back. Erin shut the door behind her but stayed standing there. Amelia looked at her, and they said nothing for a few moments. The balcony doors were open, and a breeze would occasionally disturb the draperies, and their hair.

"They're making tea downstairs." Erin said, dully. "White."

"I wouldve liked a chai." Amelia said.

Erin looked down, inwardly chastising herself for this. More silence. Erin was holding her hands behind her back, but began gripping her wrists as if to hold herself together.

"Are you upset by what I did?" Erin said. At last.

Rajani had been too busy talking to the operator that even trying to pull Amelia out of the room was too much for him- let alone trying to stop Erin in the heat of bloodlust. Rajani was hysterical, he didnt even have enough presence of mind to give the estate address- luckily, due to the prominence of the family- the name was enough. Also, it seemed the FBI had been monitoring both Mr and Mrs Lavey for some time for different suspected activities... but the point being, that there was nothing to stop Amelia from seeing what became of her father, and she herself didnt have the strength to run from the room, or to even plead for Erin to stop. The police discovered the presence of a low dose of a sedative drug in her system which would account for this.

"I dont know." Amelia said. "I dont feel anything-" She looked suddenly quite disturbed. "Is that normal?"

"I dont feel anything either." Erin said, after a pause.

They heard the timer downstairs go off. Erin approached Amelia, both of them fearful of the other. She kneeled at her sister's feet.

"Look at you, with your big eyes!" Erin said. Amelia's eyes were glossy.

"Can we go down to tea?" Amelia said, drawing her legs up onto the bed, away from Erin.

"Of course..." Erin stood and stepped back from the girl, gesturing with a sweep of her arm for Amelia to go first. The girl scurried on out and down the stairs. Erin sullenly followed.

XXXXXXX

The police knocked on the door of the guesthouse. Erin herself answered, expecting them to say they were finished for the day and just checking in before going.

"We have been informed that your mother, Sarah Lavey, has been found in her car which crashed into a cluster of trees. We regret to inform you she is deceased."

Erin looked very grim.

"An accident?"

The Officer, another woman, said gently;

"It seems the car was crashed on purpose by the driver. But we can put down that it was an accident, if it would be considered an embarrassment..."

The power of money, Erin thought.

"That wont be necessary." Erin said. "She should be embarrassed."

The Officer didnt react to this.

"Would you like us to speak to your sister?"

Erin frankly did not want to face Amelia herself with this, and it seemed her sister wouldnt receive the news well from her. She reluctantly invited the officer in and led her to Amelia, who was sitting at the table with Rajani and Christine. The both of them clung to the girl as the news was given, not knowing how else to offer support. All three of them were openly horrified. But only Amelia was staring at Erin, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. She had heard what Erin said to Sarah. The condemnation was searing, and Erin trembled under it.

The Officer said something about appointing a state therapist for them both, at which Erin said they could more than afford their own- but wouldnt mind a recommendation. She showed the Officer out. Once inside again, Erin promptly went upstairs and hid in the master suite.

She entered the bathroom and stared hard at herself. Her ink-black hair hadnt been cut for sometime and it hung all in her face in dark curls. Two yellow eyes looked at her, and she felt a chill go through her. How different she looked!

She lowered her head onto the counter and buried it in her arms.

Erin Lavey, the new Master of Lavey Estates, inheritor of endless wealth. And a murderer. She really didnt know what was going on. Her mother had killed herself, was it really because Erin had said what she did? No one has that kind of power. It was probably the guilt. But Erin had felt her own absolute sincerity when she had spoken in Sarah's ear. And Amelia's damning eyes appeared in her mind. It was _madness_ to think she had really caused a damn thing. But then Erin stood again and looked up, and saw a radiant, blonde haired man with icy blue eyes in the mirror where she should have been- who flickered away as soon as she saw it... Erin was too afraid to consider just what this might say about her sanity. And there was no time to think on it, for she had a sudden urge to go up to the roof of the house. Quickly.

She rushed out of the room and went up the stairs to the rooftop deck. Amelia was already there, standing near the ledge, looking at the sun set.

And somehow, once more, it was pouring rain.


	15. I Touched Your Soul To Mine

_The song featured near the end of this chapter is called "While Floating High Above" by Ken Hill and is from the same Phantom musical as Somewhere Above. You can hear this beautiful song, and I recommend listening to it, by searching "while floating high above phantom" on youtube. Enjoy. ~ Michael._

* * *

Erin at once ran up behind Amelia. Amelia didnt resist her, and Erin crushed her against herself, arms tightly around her, her face buried in Amelia's hair and neck. They were already completely drenched by the rain. Amelia was trembling. Erin picked her up in her arms and felt her gut twist at the expression on the girl's face, as if she looked upon a monster.

"What were you doing by the ledge?" Erin said, too roughly, in her discomfort.

Amelia jolted at her tone. Erin felt a pang in her chest.

"I-I was just watching the sun, and enjoying the rain... I wasnt doing anything!" Amelia squirmed. "Where are you taking me?"

Erin had descended the stairs, feeling a bit mad from the brief adrenaline rush. Rajani had come upstairs from the noise, but he saw the look on Erin's face and shrank back against the wall. He deduced what had occurred, but knew that Erin did not want his help. She carried Amelia into the master suite and shut the door behind her by kicking it. She dropped Amelia on the bed. Erin stood over her, and they stared at one another. Both of them were breathing quite hard, dripping wet and clothes soaked, trembling.

Erin didnt even know where to start, what to say. After an uncomfortable, prickly five minutes of this, Amelia seemed to have a private realization, and Erin saw her eyes grow suddenly very flat. She sat up.

"...So..." Amelia said, staring off into space, "What do you want me to do...?"

Erin wasnt sure what she meant. She sat on the edge of the bed. Amelia reached forward and touched Erin on the shoulder, looking at her, waiting for a reply. Erin said nothing, and so, timidly, Amelia leaned forward and tried to kiss her. Erin pushed her away, understanding at once.

"No. No!" Erin gasped. She grabbed Amelia by the arms. Was this her usual response to being alone with someone bigger than her? Erin felt the cold chill of horror edge in as she asked; "Amelia- what else did Father do to you? That cant've been the first time- how long?"

Amelia kept her gaze low, turning red. She said nothing, but was clearly in turmoil.

"Speak!" Erin gave her a weak shake.

The girl cringed. "I cant. I dont want to talk about it...please."

Erin let her go. Amelia moved away across the bed, and looked away.

"Why is Amelia...so afraid...of Erin?" Erin said, after a while. Erin could feel the discomfort radiate off Amelia. She answered for her. "Erin murdered Father in front of Amelia. Erin told Mother to die, and she did. Erin doesnt control her feelings well..."

Amelia didnt say anything. Erin sighed. Amelia's words went through Erin's head then;_ "What do you want me to do?"_ She was used to being a toy, and to submitting to adult will. Erin felt a ripple of disgust. She thought of Amelia's eyes going flat so suddenly. Erin stood and took a few steps away from the bed, struck. Amelia had thought she wanted... that she had brought her to her room for... Amelia thought that about her. Erin burst into tears at this thought, stepping forward to lean against the wall. To think that! Did she look capable of that? Did she seem that kind of person? Erin struggled to not sink to her knees. _THAT is what she thinks of me!_

Exercising more control than she ever had before, she stifled her despair and her tears, and turned to Amelia, wiping her face. The girl was staring at her, looking quite stricken with fear.

"Erin is sorry for the outburst. Amelia is the one who has been wronged, and who has suffered." She bowed her head. "Amelia, Amelia is the one who should cry. When she feels ready."

Erin opened the door and shoo-ed the girl out, since it was clear she didnt want to be there, and wasnt going to say anything. Erin shut the door after her, then went over to collaspe on her soggy bed. Her eyes grew heavy and she hadnt been lying down for more than five minutes when she fell asleep.

_She dreamt of a cellar, a cellar that in spite of its cold and dampness felt so familiar. And Christine was there. She looked terrified. When Christine saw her...well, him, for in the dream she was a man... Christine clung to the front of his suit and was pleading with him to stop, please for the love of god, stop, youre going to kill them! Erin had the sense that he was responsible for something. He felt incredibly weighed down and slow, incredibly guilty, his heart going to pieces to see Christine crying- then he saw images of a different cellar, with a woman laughing in the background, and Erin was staring at his bloody hands, mind numb with self-revulsion and horror. He had been responsible for something... He was then looking into a mirror in a plush, persian styled room- but his face- oh god... his face!_

Erin woke up with a gasp, an hour later, her body aching. She rolled to her side and groaned, and her limbs felt heavy. She took several gasping deep breaths, she felt as if she had been breathing far too shallowly when asleep. It happened now and then, but was especially pronounced now. She thought about her dream, her mind swimming with the images. Surely it was reflecting the guilt that was crushing her- because everything was her fault, she felt. Then she thought of the blonde-haired man. She felt she had seen him before, somewhere. Before seeing him in the mirror.

She, with difficulty, picked herself out of the bed, and trudged to the master bathroom. She turned on the bathwater and began to strip. Undressed, she felt an overwhelming sense of "wrongness" about her body. She had felt uncomfortable about her body before, but now it oppressed her with a special kind of revulsion. She thought of her being a man in her dream. She thought about how she was always a man when she dreamed. She thought about those secret desires that were always tormenting her. Erin, to no one's knowledge, was viciously carnal, and it required all of her control to restrain that part of her so that it was a thought in the back of her head- and it left her without the energy to restrain herself anywhere else. She thought of being a man with Christine, and at once felt very weak. She hated herself for the impure thoughts. She hated her body. She hated her "beauty". She was so goddamn beautiful, she knew it. She wouldve made an irresistible woman-

She grabbed her head and grimaced, wanting to scream to release the inner tension, but not feeling alone enough to do it. She was boiling inside. She wanted to die. She started opening all the drawers and cupboards. In one was a hair-dryer. She was interested in the long cord, ending in the large, knobby plug. Erin held the cord, pacing from the bathroom and the room and back again. Then she stopped, and let the plug-end of the cord drop to the floor. With a strong flick of her wrist, the chord flew up from the ground and swung over to whip her back. It stung, but not enough. She repeated this for the next few minutes, mute, the pain increasing, heart beating faster... she paused, feeling heady. She turned to see her back in the mirror, and dropped the hair dryer and its chord with a gasp. It had hurt but all considered, she considered it mild pain...she hadnt expected it to cause as much visible damage as it had. There was, in the middle and down the length of her back yellow and purple bruises, and small traces of blood from minor cuts. Erin turned from the mirror and crawled into the bath, shutting off the water with quivering hands. Her body trembled from the rush, and she giggled madly, although she was feeling quite meek and ashamed. She covered her face, with her hands, still laughing.

"Erin is mad, quite, hopelessly mad!" She murmured. She sank down into the warm water, her back stinging, the ache in her limbs melting away. But, the horrible boiling within had gone away, the pressure relieved. She had never done such a thing to herself before... whenever she was feeling overcome, she would turn to music. This time she hadnt turned to her art for comfort. Oh, oh, she needed music, and she realized just how much. Without it- what depravities would she turn to for solace? She trembled again, the water quivering with her. She was feeling very tired again, and was asleep without another thought.

_She was in the cellar again, a cellar that in spite of its cold and dampness felt so familiar. And Christine was there. She looked furious. When Christine saw her- well, him, for in her dreams she was always a man- she gripped the front of his suit and was screaming at him to stop, please for the love of god, stop, youre going to kill them! Erin had the sense that... he was responsible for something..._

XXXXX

Erin woke up in a bath of cold water, with Christine sitting by, calling her name. Once her eyes had opened, Christine fell quiet.

"Erin is fine. Please do not worry."

She unplugged the bath and stood up, hand on the wall for support, careful to keep her back facing away from Christine. Erin toweled off. Dressed in fresh clothes. The binder made her back ache. She sighed. Combed her hair. Christine sat on the counter and watched. Erin put down the comb and looked at her reflection, at her cold yellow eyes. The image of her face from the dream flashed in her mind- if you could call that a face, that noseless, gaunt, sallow-skinned ghoul. With her yellow eyes burning in those dark sockets, no less! What a dreadful way for one's subconscious to portray one's sense of guilt and self-loathing, Erin thought. She looked at Christine with her blue, blue eyes.

"Rajani went to bed. Tomorrow he says he'll be meeting up with his father. When he had told him what happened, his dad decided to fly out at once." Christine said. "Amelia is also asleep. I know youve probably not calmed down enough to think about it, but you really ought to find her a therapist... and maybe one for you too."

Erin felt a twinge of fear as she realized the hairdryer was not in the middle of the floor. Christine had put it away. Was the end of the chord bloodied?

"Erin should, and will. At least, for Amelia."

"Are you going back to bed? Youve dressed yourself in day-clothes." Christine said. "Its a bit late."

Erin honestly hadnt thought about it. She wasnt all present, to put it mildly.

"Erin is tired." Erin thought about her dream. "But she doesnt much want to go to sleep again so soon."

"I'll stay up with you. Want to watch a movie?"

"Yes." Erin didnt particularly want to. But she did want to lay on the den couch with her Christine in her arms, with the girl's arms around her, while Christine watched whatever movie it was she picked, and Erin could watch her undisturbed. "No." She changed her mind. She wanted to sing, and wanted Christine to sing with her. "We must sing."

Christine did not argue.

"Is there someplace we can go where we wont wake anyone up?"

"Of course, Christine."

They went outside and walked across the estate grounds to the main house. Along the path there were ground lights, so the path was easy to see. The house itself was empty, for the meager staff had been temporarily dismissed, even the driver. Erin unlocked the house and with no trouble walked through the dark, holding Christine's hand, to find the light switches as they made their way to the music hall. Christine had never been inside of Erin's house- which, now, was indeed, fully Erin's house, Christine realized- and although it was beautiful and certainly extravagant, she couldnt stop the skin-crawling feelings she got, when she peered forward into the parts of the house that they passed and left unilluminated. The dark hallways they didnt go down seemed to her gaping, hungry mouths.

"There is a new song burning up within me." Erin said. "Dont you feel it, Christine?"

They stood before two tall double doors, with gilt handles. Erin unlocked them, and pulled them open. Complete darkness awaited them.

To her surprise, Christine did feel it. And she realized that she had felt it many times before, every time that Erin had ever commanded her to sing. But now- now it filled her, this swelling, churning, something... she felt brimming with it. And looking into Erin's burning eyes, so bright in the darkened room, she knew they were filled with the same feeling.

Erin walked into the room, the sound of her shoes clicking on the hard floors echoing, leaving Christine in the lighted hall. Christine heard her open a drawer somewhere. Then a small candlelight appeared, then another, and Erin continued for some time, until there were at least fifty candles, all atop the chests of drawers lining the far wall. Christine waited, looking about the room as it was slowly revealed by the increasing light. Every instrument she had heard of, and more, were propped up on stands, or hanging on the walls throughout the hall. There were also stools and plush chairs, ottomans, and side tables. In the middle was a full grand piano, with a wide berth of open space around it.

When Erin had finished with the candles, she turned to Christine, and raised her hand out to her, silently beckoning. Christine felt a physical, invisible tug on her whole being, and felt alarmed. But she was compelled forward all the same, a haze falling over her mind, a pleasant deja vu sensation. She stepped forward, and the echo of her footstep and the candlelight made her think of caverns, of palaces, of cellars... She walked, looking into Erin's golden eyes, and this seemed all so familiar, but not from being with Erin at school. She felt they were standing in a place that was suddenly not a place, in a time that was not a time. Christine lifted her hand before her, as she neared Erin she walked very slowly, as if in a daze. Erin's expression never changed, in the light she looked almost ravenous, her eyes looking violently alive. Christine scarcely breathed.

Erin watched Christine approach her, the girl's face looking quite afraid as she walked more and more slowly. But she reached out her hand, ready to place it in Erin's. The atmosphere in the music hall grew heavy with something just escaping description. There was a sense of trepidation that was suffocating- to them both. Christine's golden hair glowed in the light, and looking at her lit this way reminded Erin of something. Erin felt a creeping sense of having done this before. This? Christine lowered her hand. _This?_

Their hands met.

_"Erik!"_

Christine was wide eyed as she said it, memory dawning on her. Erin felt as if Christine had reached her hand through her gut and given Erin's soul a good wrench.

"Say it again." She heard herself say.

"E-Erik." She stammered. "Erik..."

Erin was wide eyed now, but rather than it being a look of wonder, like Christine, there was an intensity in her expression. She pulled Christine nearer.

"Again." It was a whispher.

"Erik." Christine obeyed.

A pause.

"Many times, my father told me that was what he wanted to name me." Erin said, voice low.

"What happened just now? What's happening?" Christine said.

_"Je ne sais pas."_ Erin muttered. "What inspired you to say that name?"

"It just... jumped out of my mouth."

Erin remembered then how she had blurted out Christine's name without knowing her, when they met. She thought of that feeling of having known Christine for an eternity. Of all the little oddities and creeping feelings of something being off. An impossible idea began to crowd her head, forming like a genie from billows of smoke. She could not form words around it, it baffled her so, even in its vague formation.

"Come, stand here by the piano."

She pulled Christine over the the center of the hall. Christine stood by the piano, as told. Erin opened the body of the piano and propped it open, then seated herself on the bench and opened the cover over the keyboard.

"Erik." Christine said again. Erin looked up at her, and felt the wooshing sensation of deja vu. "I... Ive got this eerie feeling that that is your name, um...Erin." Christine actually had to focus to say 'Erin'. "Or shouldve been. I actually feel really bothered by this..."

"Well..." Erin frowned. Bothered was an understatement. "then so be it. Christine shall call me Erik."

Christine looked uneasy, her hands clasped together.

Erin, or..._Erik_, rather, began to play. Although the music began slow and winding, the feeling was pouring out of her very soul and filling the room so that it seemed to warp- and indeed Erik thought it was a trick of peripheral vision at first. She looked up at Christine again, who looked stricken with fright. Indeed Erik felt herself jolt, seeing Christine in a nineteenth century white gown, and the music hall around them now suddenly a cramped candle-lit cellar, and she was now playing at an organ. Then she noticed her hands- impossibly long, spidery fingers on skeletal hands with sallow yellowed skin. She felt a pang of terror. Christine groaned, and Erik noticed her holding something black. Christine screamed.

The music hall seemed to literally snap back into place around them.

"Oh!" Christine whimpered. "What happened?"

"I saw it too." Erik said, feeling dizzy. "You should sit, Christine."

Christine didnt come nearer.

"You cant even imagine what I saw just now." She said. "I dont even...it was horrible. What was that that happened just now?"

"I darent say what Im starting to believe, for sounding completely out of my mind."

"And both of us spontaneously experiencing the same vision _isnt_ crazy?" Christine was almost screeching.

Erik stood and grasped Christine by the shoulders.

"Christine."

"Was that supposed to be us?" Christine said, growing more hysterical. "Your face- Erik! It couldnt have been you- but- it had your eyes! Your face, it was...it looked like a corpse!"

"Yes." Erik thought to his dreams from only a little earlier. "It seems you saw Erik."

"And you had this wretched look on your face- you looked horrified yourself."

"Erik probably was." Already, saying the other name was natural. Erik made Christine sit down. "But right now, youre going to sing until you calm down."

Christine submitted to Erik's directions. Erik sat down and began to play _Somewhere Above the Sun Shines Bright_, and Christine sang through to the end. This time the room did not warp. Erik began to play what she had played earlier-

"Wait." Christine said.

"Yes?" Erik turned to her.

"I dont understand." She said. "Did we... were we...?"

"It seems we may have known each other a long time." Erik said. "Erik has no answer for why or how. All Erik knows is that...it seems...then and now, Erik lives for Christine."

Christine seemed as if she wanted to say something, but hesitated. Erik continued on with her playing. Erik sang;

_While floating high above,_

_I hear you speak my name_

_Your voice, so sweetly calling me_

_To come, to you again._

_I stole into your dreams_

_I touched your soul to mine_

_I gave you music, and soon,_

_You must rest here with me,_

_Eternally..._

The dreamy feeling had descended again upon them. Christine sang, the music pulling through her, and words came, without a thought from her;

_The firey spark you give_

_Also set my heart aflame..._

Erik looked at Christine, her eyes burning. They then sang together, beginning in an alternating harmony;

_That all the songs you hear me sing_

_Are echoes of your name_

_Our voices blend forever_

_Ascending high above_

_One day I'll fly as high with you_

_And in heaven's arms we'll be_

_Eternally..._

Erik passionately added, on her own;

_We'll share paradise..._

Then both together, voices rising at the end;

_We'll share paradise..._

The final notes echoed through the hall, and they could even hear it travel out into the house, before finally giving way to silence. They looked at one another. Erik seemed so much like a man to Christine then, with her burning eyes, that she wondered how it was that she had ever thought of Erik as a girl. Just because of this body? Erik's soul clearly defied form.

"I love you, Christine. Eternally." _He_, for Christine at once saw him as such, said.

Christine kissed Erik, even as fear crept out of the most secret parts of her heart.


	16. The Concert

_First, I would like to remind you all, that if you havent been back to this story since Dec 2012, then I would recommend visiting the three chapters prior to this to catch up on the story. Although there are less chapters than before, I did not remove any of the writing, but paired old chapters together to make fewer, longer ones. I would hate for anyone to accidently skip several chapters of events and become very confused about the seeming plot gap. Thanks._

_Now, a note for those of us who are all caught up, the violin piece that Erik plays at the school concert that he wrote for Aaron is a real song. To hear it, go to youtube and type in the search box _14 - BMG IV - Rose of Versailles_, that is the name of the video, and is the first result. The violin piece is only in the first minute and a half. It is from the anime Rose of Versailles. ~Michael_

* * *

Erik and Christine did not sleep that night. The tall, dark gentleman with the burning eyes and his willowy, golden faerie queen passed the hours floating through the mansion, he explaining to her all his old tricks as a child and the use of each room. After that, they roamed the estate gardens in a tender silence, arms entwined, beneath a sky full of all the stars one never sees closer to the city. The sun dawned on them, and they resumed conversation.

"I never thought about reincarnation very seriously." Christine began, as the sky turned to rosy hues. "But, I guess direct experience blows away doubt in a way that theories never can. I dont know what else this could be, really."

"How terribly interesting. If its not some strange shared dream instead. I doubt it." Erik said, his androgyne face becoming shadowed. "What a very, very strange situation we saw there, in the cellar."

Erik thought about his (for he also now viewed himself as a man quite completely) own private dreams from the prior day. Christine clinging to him, begging him to not kill someone. He had already killed two people in this life- what had he done in his prior life?And looking the way he had. He felt a sense of dread, he felt that things between he and Christine had turned out very differently then. Was this all true?

"Indeed. " Christine clung to his arm more tightly.

"You dont happen to remember anything else...?" Erik said.

"No." Christine looked at him. "Do you? There in the music hall was the first time anything has happened at all."

"No, I dont remember anything more either. Ive merely been plagued by a sense of deja vu since meeting you. But before now, I ignored it." Erik said.

They walked up to a fountain in the middle of the gardens. They were surrounded by carnations, and different wildflowers. Christine and Erik spontaneously waltzed around the fountain, in a playful fashion, their conversation turned to less serious subjects.

"So, I hope you dont mind if I ask, but... what are you going to do with all of this?" Christine gestured out to everything around them. Erin hadnt thought about the fact she now owned everything. "But...youre only 17- do you own it?"

"Well," Erik said, "please dont be upset, but Erik's birthday passed a few weeks ago. He has been 18 for some time. Its not a day he finds worthy of celebration or gifts."

Naturally, Christine gave quite the look of disapproval.

"You still couldve mentioned it. What day was it?"

"November the twentieth."

Christine glared more so.

"And youre a scorpio. That explains everything." She laughed then.

"If you say so." Erik shrugged. "I've always found astrology to be a bit dull."

"Im a pisces." Christine said. "Scorpio and Pisces are always said to be soulmates."

Erik couldnt help but grin at her.

"Soulmates!" Erik said. He savored the idea. He could not resist taking Christine's face in his hands then and there so he could kiss her. She returned his ardour.

It began to rain again, but only in a warm drizzle. They laughed then, exultantly, for no reason in particular. They ran toward the guest house, for the sake of running more than for getting out of the rain. But as they came up to the door a somberness resettled on them. They went inside and into the kitchen, which was bright from the morning light shining on the happy yellow walls. Rajani was already standing in there, making tea, and it was a heavy chai from the aromatic smell of cloves and cardamom that greeted them.

"Your bedroom door was closed, so I didnt know you were gone." He said, then turned to face them. He realized Christine was there too. "Oh, well, both of you."

They were looking at him very oddly, flushed in the face and a bit damp from the drizzle. Erik in particular looked rather uncomfortable.

"What's the matter? Say, Erin, where were you both anyway?"

There was a pause. Rajani was wondering if some new awful thing had happened.

"His name is Erik." Christine said. Erik looked at her, wondering if she remembered more.

Rajani frowned, head tilting slightly. Erin was in all black, and grasping Christine's hands, who's blond hair hung in wet strands. They looked at him meaningfully.

"Daroga." Erin shook her head. "Goddamnit, I swear the clues are smacking me in the face today. Remember you said you felt you'd known me a long time?"

"Yes..." Rajani felt very ill then, even though he had felt just fine a second ago. He had never said anything, but he had been having dreams about the three of them for years. He had been incredibly dismayed when Erin- or Erik- had mentioned Christine the first time. "Ive had a few dreams, about a cellar. And both of you were there."

Erik looked worried for a second, but then quickly veiled his expression. Rajani had seen it though.

"Really?" Christine said. "I dont remember you. No offense."

"I remember." Erik said. "That I know you, but not specific memories."

"I remember rather specifically many, many things, Erik." Rajani said, in almost a smug way. A flare of rage shot through Erik, but he remained outwardly peaceful. He noted such unusual self-control with a bit of pride.

"Oh really? Tell me what you remember about me." Christine gushed, walking over to stand by Rajani. He turned to attend to the tea, but not before noticing the murderous glare Erik was giving him. "I can hardly believe this is happening. To think- you too!"

Rajani moved the teapot to the table.

"Will you two be having tea with me?"

"Of course, old friend." Erik said, sitting down.

Rajani looked at Erik with his beautiful, pale face and golden eyes. Rajani felt he was trying not to jump up and rip out his tongue. He appreciated this restraint.

"I'll try a cup." Christine chirped. She sat down so she would be close to where Rajani would sit.

Rajani moved to bring teacups and spoons to the table, wondering why it was that he suddenly became maid. Erik technically was the host. Almost as if in response to this thought, Erik stood and brought cream and honey to the table.

"Oh, my dreams, or memories, with specifically you my dear lady are rather limited, Im afraid. Most are memories of being an official of sorts for some backwards, arabian kingdom." Rajani started. He sat next to Christine. She didnt seem dissuaded.

"Well, tell about what you do remember about me then."

Rajani chuckled. "Its a bit of a vain request." Christine blushed and started. "Im kidding!" Rajani laughed, aware that Erik smiled a bit, and that he was probably going to get pulled into a private conversation later. "Let me tell you what I do remember. There was a kind of river under the ground with the cellar. It doesnt seem to make sense, but that's what Ive always seen. And I was hiding somewhere. I saw you, Christine, that was your name then too, you Christine came out of the shadows and walked up to a little boat sitting on this river. Erik was beside me, but left me in my hiding place to greet you, and you both got in the boat and rowed away to the cellar. That's it. And then I remember hearing you both sing. It was magnificent beyond description."

"Hmm." Erik said.

"A river? How strange, beside a cellar. Maybe its something else." Christine said. "I dont remember a river or a boat. I dont know how to remember more."

"Im sure itll come with time." Rajani said. He took a drink from his cup. He drank his tea with cream and honey, and he showed Christine how to prepare a cup for herself. Erik, perhaps ironically, drank his tea black that morning.

"Then how is it that you remember so much more than either of us?" Christine said.

"I dont know." Rajani admitted. "Maybe its just something about me. Maybe I was just more open to accepting it."

Erik actually thought that answer was incredibly insightful. He himself had a rather vicious need to remember as much as possible as soon as possible. As much as he dreaded learning what had once been, he knew not remembering could now put him at quite a disadvantage.

"Oh, Erik- do you think Amelia is part of this too?" Christine turned to him, full of the excitement of discovery. Rajani and Erik's faces turned very somber at the mention of Amelia. Christine faltered a bit. "Do either of you remember her?"

They shook their heads.

"I rather know for a fact that she did not exist with us in that time." Rajani said, with a rather careful tone of voice. He looked at Erik. Erik knew somehow that this was true. He was feeling increasingly worse.

"And here she is now, caught up in our mess." Erik said darkly.

"Oh, you cant mean you really think this is our fault." Rajani said.

"No, somehow I feel it is strictly mine." Erik said. His eyes had returned to their sickly, cold quality.

"Oh, Erik! You know it isnt!" Christine moved her chair over to him and wrapped her arms around him.

He hugged her, looking at Rajani over her shoulder. Rajani knew he wanted to talk to him, badly. Rajani wanted to speak to him as well. He himself remembered many things indeed about Erik and Christine's prior relationship and was rather eager to learn how it was things seemed to turn out so differently this time. They continued drinking tea, Christine sitting partially on her chair, and partially on Erik and curled against him, cooing at him now and then. Christine recounted what had happened the prior night in the music hall to Rajani.

"How interesting." Was all he said about it. "I cant imagine how this all came to be, or what it means that we are all together again."

"I want to know!" Christine said, zealously. "I am so curious!"

Amelia had come downstairs, dressed in a demure dress and sweater. They all turned to look at her. Rajani stood at once and went to walk her over to the table. She seemed to light up at this extra care.

"Good morning Miss Amelia, will you have tea with us. I made chai just for you." He spoke in a gentle tone of voice, and pulled the fourth chair to be next to his, and waited for her to sit and pushed her in.

"Thank you." She said. "Good morning." She said to the room. She didnt look at Erik.

Erik felt his gut twist, remembering what had happened between them. He hadnt told anyone. Naturally she hadnt either. Rajani poured her a cup. She began putting milk and honey in to her tastes.

"Good morning sweetie." Christine said. She paused. "Ah, um, I nearly forgot!" She looked at Erik and Rajani. "The concert!" She looked at Amelia. "Would you like to come to see Erik and I sing at our school today? It'll be fun."

"Who is Erik?" Amelia said, stirring her tea.

"Ah, I've decided I prefer that name." Erik said, slightly flustered. He had forgotten about the concert. He wondered how much chaos he would be walking into once he returned to the school. He sorely longed to be back, where he controlled everything and it was business as usual.

"That's a boy's name. I think that suits you better." Amelia said. She took a drink. "If you get to change your name, then I want to change mine too."

"What shall we call you?" Erik said.

"Aaron, like the boy's name." Amelia looked at him through her lashes. "Can I cut my hair?"

"Of course." Erik said. "Its your hair. You may also dress however you like."

"I'm tired of dresses, but mother only bought me one pair of jeans." Amelia, or, Aaron, said this rather flatly.

Erik stood, and Christine moved off him. He walked over to the knife block and brought back a pair of scissors for Aaron. She took them from him.

"I finished your birthday song. Im going to play it at the concert. Will you come?" Erik said.

"Yes." The little girl said. She looked mightily pleased.

XXXX

Rajani had to leave to meet his father, and so Erik did not get a chance to speak to him as yet. He drove he and the girls back to school, already all dressed for the concert. Christine borrowed one of the late Sarah's dresses, a deep blue strapless evening gown with a plunging back, that hadnt been worn for a few years due to not fitting the no-longer trim Sarah. Aaron was dressed in a pair of khaki slacks, dress shoes, and button up with a rich green velour coat and bowtie that were once Erik's, which were stored with his old clothes in his old bedroom, never having been thrown away inspite of being grown out of. Aaron's sandy brown hair was now cut to ear length in the front and shorter in the back. Erik was in a black evening tux and white shirt, vest, and bowtie. His golden eyes stood out as the only color on him anywhere.

They arrived four hours before the concert started. Even this early Erik was besieged by a frenzied greeting by various students and Mr. Bradley. He decided that it wasnt important to bring up his name preference, and he just ignored the pronouns. There were more pressing matters at the moment. Christine stayed with Aaron while Erik caught up on what he missed, and caught up others on what had happened to him in the vaguest manner possible. He spent the next few hours conducting final run-throughs of different numbers, and accounting for all the participants, and on the whole playing round-up. Mr. Bradley played assistant to him all the while, conducting separate run-throughs for the sake of efficiency.

Meanwhile, Christine had texted Meg, who showed up not long after. They hugged.

"Christine! Oh my god. Are you okay? Is Erin okay? Is this her..." Meg looked at Aaron. "um, sister?"

"His name is Erik." Aaron told her.

Meg looked at Christine.

"What?"

"Erin is going by Erik now. And, well, Erik and I think of him as a man, and I guess he's just owning up to it now." Christine shrugged. And then she stared at Meg, deja vu sweeping over her. "I know you!" She said.

"Uh, yeah, you goof." Meg raised a brow, chuckling. "Well, good for Erin- ah, Erik. Self-acceptance is cool. That's pretty damn ironic, huh?"

Christine frowned. She felt she remembered Meg vaguely. But she couldnt just blurt out just what she meant, like with Rajani.

"How so?" She said.

"Well, if Erin-er, Erik- is a guy now...then your freak out was over nothing. Isnt that kinda funny?"

"I guess." Christine smiled. She hadnt thought about it before now. It all did seem incredibly foolish now. "Anyway, this is Erik's sister...ah, Aaron."

"Aaron? Did their parents seriously give them both the same name?" Meg slapped her hand on her mouth, looking at Aaron worriedly. "I didnt mean to mention them. Im sorry."

"Aaron like the boy's name." Christine said. She was still holding Aaron's hand. "Aaron is here because Erik wrote her a song just for her." Christine paused. "Oh no, wasnt it supposed to be a secret song?"

Aaron looked at her, surprised that Christine would know. Surprised that she would care.

"Yes. But I do like that its my song that everyone's going to hear."

"Are you sure? I can tell Erik to not play it if you want to keep it a secret song."

Aaron stared across the stage at Erik, who was talking to a group of girls.

"I want everyone to know that he wrote that song just for me." Aaron said.

"Youve seemed to have switched to male pronouns pretty easily. God knows Im gonna forget a million times." Meg said to Aaron.

"Erik was never much of a sister to me, even when I was a baby." Aaron replied.

Christine wondered if she meant it the way that it sounded. Meg didnt seem to catch this second meaning. She laughed.

"Im not really surprised, and I doubt anyone else will be." She looked at Christine. "Can we, maybe, talk someplace private?"

"I cant leave Aaron alone. Erik's busy until the show opens. Im waiting until Rajani- a friend of Erik's- comes down here. He'll be sitting with Aaron during the show."

"Well, alrighty. I dont have anything else to do today. I'll be watching too. Is this guy cute? Maybe Ill make sure to sit with him and Aaron. If he's friends with, um, Erik, then he's probably got a rich family too."

Christine laughed. Aaron narrowed her blue eyes at Meg, who didnt notice.

"Maybe." She said. "He's handsome. But he's indian. His parents may have a cousin arranged for him or something already. I dont know." She shrugged.

"Whatever. He's not married yet." Meg grinned.

Aaron glowered more. The conversation continued in a frivolous direction for the remainder of the time before the show, Christine being called away a few times for run-throughs. Aaron and Meg would go and watch her as to not be stuck with each other in awkward silence. Rajani finally showed up a minutes before doors opened to let in patrons. He said hello to Christine and Meg and Aaron followed him back out. Mr. Kapur was waiting outside with the other Patrons, most likely finding it more humorous than annoying that he of all people would be made to wait to be seated at a venue of any kind.

Then the stage manager called out warning that doors were now opening- everyone in places!

XXXX

Mr. Bradley acted as Master of Ceremonies, introducing the show and all the acts as they came on. The evening began, perhaps a bit strangely, with the Finale from Godspell, an ensemble piece. Complete with the psychedelic guitar and 70's organ playing in the pit. Saint Cecilia's actually had a portable organ for their concerts. The soloist was a junior from second class choir.

The first half hour of the concert, was composed of more contemporary and upbeat pieces from various musicals and popular bands. Included were Bohemian Rhapsody as an ensemble, For the Longest Time by Billy Joel performed by a male octet, A male soloist performed Sir Robin the Brave from Monty Python to a roar of approving laughter from his classmates in the audience- causing some unsettled glances from the parents at this display of ill manners. There was also a number done by a group of theater students, such as "Die, Vampyre, Die." from Untitled, a musical. Another bout of laughter. There was then a pause between acts as the school orchestra set up on the stage, Erik was conductor at least until intermission, when it would be handed off to a talented senior boy who had shown his capability before. Mr. Bradley that they were moving now into the instrumental section of the evening. Played was the theme from Swan Lake, a piece from the ballet Giselle, and the Sugar Plumb Fairy song from Nutcracker. The last piece prior to intermission was the The Jewel Song aria, from Faust.

"To be sung by our own Christine Dane, who is part of our graduating class this year." Mr. Bradley said, before moving off stage.

This was the moment that had been labored for all those months.

Christine stepped out onto the stage, alone. The air felt chilled. Her hair floated free, although all the other girls in the show had opted for various up-dos. She noticed Erik standing before the orchestra behind where she would sing, at the edge of the stage. He was looking at her, solemn but proud. He spoke softly so that the audience could not hear.

"Courage, Christine."

She smiled at him and walked up to the microphone, peering out into the blackness and the bright lights above. The music swelled behind her, and at the right moment...she sang! As she went on, the music possessed her so that she could not help but move her arms and dance a little, as if trying on the marvelous jewels left for her by Faust- so filled was she by the girlish wonder she felt there in the song. The entire theater seemed to fill with her bright youthful naivete. By the end of the song, before even completing the finishing note, everyone was standing in applause. She felt incredibly dizzy with joy, grinning ear to ear. She felt herself waver, and she turned to look back at Erik, who was rushing to her. She fainted into his arms.

Erik quickly carried Christine off stage, and Mr. Bradley rushed out, as the audience fell to murmuring in concern.

"Well! I think it would amuse you all to learn this is Miss Dane's debut! It seems it was a bit overwhelming for her, especially seeing that it was an enchanting success. " He laughed, and was relieved when the audience chuckled along. "Now, now, Im glad youre enjoying yourselves, but please take care after intermission to not induce any more fainting in our students. We dont need a lawsuit." More laughter. Intermission was called.

In the audience Meg, Aaron, and Rajani looked at one another.

"I'm going to go check on her." Meg stood.

"She'll be fine. Probably just nerves." Rajani said. He had to reassure his father, who sat on his other side, of the same thing.

"She was perfect." Aaron said. She was quite wide-eyed in admiration.

They all agreed with her, as did several people around them.

Backstage, Erik had carried Christine to one of the dressing rooms, shooing people away as he walked. He lay her on the couch, a group standing around them. Erik didnt kick them all out as most of them were readying themselves for the next hour. He sat by her on the edge of the couch. He allowed some of the girls to fan her and bring a bottle of water.

"Oh, we were watching from offstage- what happened?"

"It seems she fainted."

"Fainted? Wow, Ive never seen anyone actually faint."

"It was her first time on stage- and did you see the audience stand like that? I dont think I couldve handled it myself."

"Nevermind the audience- did you hear Christine? She was like a real opera singer!"

Erik couldnt help but smile. Christine came-to rather quickly, looking around her rather confused. First she saw two yellow eyes peering down at her. Then the smiling faces of her classmates.

"Christine! You were great!"

"Are you okay, hun?"

Christine sat herself up and drank some water.

"Did I faint?" She laughed. "Wow."

She chatted with the people around her, while Erik sat by quietly. He was beaming with triumph. And the night was not yet over, there was still more music to come.

"Will you be able to get through the rest of the show?" Erik asked, as a courtesy. He did not doubt her.

"Yes. I think so." Christine said.

Mr. Bradley then came in and checked on Christine. Seeing that the girl was quite fine, he drug Erik off to make sure all was in place for the second hour. Erik excused himself from Christine and left the dressing room. Not a minute later, Ronnie came through the dressing room door, squeezing through people changing in or out of evening wear.

"Christine!"

She turned to see who it was, and frowned.

"You are the last person I want to see right now." She said, drawing stares.

"Hey- are you even supposed to be back here?" One of the girls sitting by her said.

"He's not." Christine said, rather moodily. "Get out of here before I find Mr. Bradley and tell him you snuck back here."

"I was watching the show, and I just had to speak to you again. Please." Ronnie said. He was holding a rose.

"Sorry, um, Ronnie- isnt it? But we're not supposed to have visitors during shows." The girl said. "Doesnt seem like she wants to talk to you anyway."

"Aw, Christine, he seems like a nice guy. He brought you a rose and all." Another girl, brown hair and applying blush, said. "Youre being kinda harsh. What'd he do?"

Christine glowered at her.

"He's not a nice guy." She looked at Ronnie. "Youre a pig. And you know what you did wrong."

"I came to apologize. I saw you faint and decided not to wait till the end of the show. Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks for asking. Save your rose for a girl who wants it."

"Im sorry, deeply sorry. Youre right about me. I just got carried away, Christy. I'm really sorry about what happened. Surely, there's something I can do to make it up? I just want you to talk to me again. We're childhood sweethearts- arent we?"

"That was a long time ago." Christine said. "I'll think about how you can make up if you go away now. I still have several more songs to go and dont need this right now."

"I will, if you'll accept this." He put the rose into her hands. She held onto it. "I'll see you later then, Christy."

As soon as he was gone, she handed the rose off to one of the freshman girls and complimented her performance in the ensemble, who blushed at being given something by a senior. The stage manager came through, a blustery senior girl who looked bug-eyed and manic.

"Places!" She snapped at everyone, then popped out of the room. "Places!"

Intermission ended.

Mr. Bradley introduced the second hour, explaining it would be more classical pieces, or contemporary takes on classics. Mixed with a little musical theater, because, as he said, that's highschool for you. Some laughs.

"We shall begin then with The Queen of the Night aria from The Magic Flute by Mozart- sung by Carla Tawson, whom we are proud to have as a senior in our graduating class."

It was her only solo, but she personified her role, gesturing out to an invisible daughter as she sang to her what must be done. Her red hair, curled elaborately atop her head, and her floor length black dress and long black gloves added to the effect. It was clear she had dressed herself for this song, and it was most fitting. She exited the stage with a most queenly strut to robust applause.

Next was an ambitious rendition of La Habenera from Carmen, with Christine as Carmen, and a various mix of students from different choir classes as ensemble. Christine was fun and flirtatous, embodying the firey free spirit to such a degree that Erik could be seen sweating backstage. Except that those that saw assumed that it was from nervousness. This also ended in a standing applause. Christine did not faint but glowed under the praise.

After that were two strictly instrumental pieces, one in which Erik played the organ as part of an orchestral piece. The first was an orchestral rendering of "November Rain", by Guns and Roses. The second was an old church song, but full of reverence.

The second to last act was Erik on the violin, and he stepped out after being introduced.

"A Confession of Love. For my sister."

He began to play. Erik could not see from the stage, but Aaron was gazing rapturously at the stage, thrilled by the expressions of those around her. The music was wistful, and seemed to squeeze one's heart, but only enough to where one wasnt sure if it hurt or was simply so tender that it felt like pain. She clung to Rajani's arm, sitting between him and Meg.

"He wrote that just for me!" She said to him.

Rajani smiled at her.

All too soon, it seemed, it was over. The final act was "Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha which Erik had converted into a grand ensemble finale and managed to extend into twice the length by adding harmonies and doubling the lyrics. Every single singer in the show, Christine and Erik included, was a part of it.

Afterward ensued further chaos. At least strike was tomorrow, so they could all leave that much sooner. Erik went around to personally congradulate every single singer and musician. Christine and the others waited for him out in the lobby. Carla purposefull kept out of the way so that a half hour after the show ended, she was the last person Erik would have to speak to. He was about to walk out of the backstage door when she stepped out.

"Erin!"

Erik turned to her.

"Miss Tawson. Congradulations. You were a magnificent Queen, and Im glad you were a part of the show."

Carla nearly melted into the floor at these words. She clung to his arm for support. His graceful face remained serene.

"Are you okay?" Carla said. "The teachers werent all that clear about whats going on, other than...your parents being deceased. We are all astounded that you still came to the show."

"Of course," Erik said. "I demand the fullest dedication to music from myself before asking anything of the sort from others. How could I do less?"

Carla was quite awed by this. She knew she would never be that dedicated.

"But, your parents?"

"Well, it has been quite a mess. They both killed themselves, but for different reasons." He admitted. "Saying more than that would be rather indiscreet of me. I have my sister to think of."

"Of course!" Carla blushed. "Oh, that sounds unbearable- that they would do that! How do you stay so strong?"

Erik looked at her strangely.

"You give me too much credit. I didnt much care for them in the first place." He opened the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I really must be going. Christine is waiting for me."

Carla saw the blonde girl, speaking to an official looking person who had been in the audience, proabably a scout- and watched Erik walk to her. She felt herself seethe in a whole new way looking at Christine, and it shocked her how much hatred she suddenly felt. That girl has always been in her way! But nonsense, she thought. She's only been here for a few months. That's not how she felt though.

XXXX

Mr. Kapur greeted Erik, struggling with pronouns, as apparantly Rajani had explained to him Erik's new "lifestyle choice". They were all in the Kapur black limo, by Rolls-Royce, and he was speaking to Erik about what he suggested he do to look after his sister (Kapur failed utterly to make the name switch in her case) and the Lavey estate. He was so deeply concerned about him and his sister that Erik didnt know how to feel about it. He was almost touched, and naturally suspicious. Most of the suggestions were quite mild. Then he said;

"You know Erik, Amelia would be more than welcome to come live with my family back in India- and yourself too for that matter, if you felt the need. I feel as if you and Amelia are like my own, especially now that you have no one to guide you. I make the offer for her to come to India, as you have college- or whatever you plan to do after graduation- to think about. And with figuring out your estate and dealing with this ugly, ugly family crisis, having to raise a child on top of it is simply too much in my opinion."

Erik looked at Aaron at once to see her reaction. She was sitting beside Rajani and her face flushed at this suggestion. Erik honestly didnt know what to do with an eleven year old girl who was afraid of him, so this suggestion seemed the better option. But part of him felt that this was being lazy and taking the easy way out of a responsibility he felt he had for this young life.

"I will seriously consider it." Erik said. "Thank you."

Erik felt a bit hurt at the sudden hopeful look his sister gave him. He noticed too that Rajani was the only one not surprised by this suggestion, and immediately suspected that he had given his father the idea.

XXXX

Erik had hired a large cleaning crew to sweep through the main home and guest house while they had been away at the concert, and so the entire group of them stayed in Erik's home. The house staff were still dismissed, so Erik accomodated his guests himself- including cooking dinner, although Christine and Rajani helped where they could. After dinner Kapur retired to his guest room, and went to bed at once. Meg and Christine took off with Aaron to play games in her room. Rajani was left alone with Erik.

"It is quite late." Erik said absentmindedly. It was already one in the morning. "Let us go to the study by the music hall."

He took Rajani by the arm and dragged him to the study where many years prior Rajani had confronted him about playing tricks on the other children who once played in that great empty mansion. Rajani sat on the green velvet couch. The decor was very victorian in this particular room, with all the walls covered in frames, and the room cluttered with furniture.

"We couldve at least made tea to bring up first." Rajani complained.

"We can have tea after we are done speaking." Erik said, his prior joviality at dinner now thoroughly cast aside.

"Very well, Erik." Rajani felt his gut knot. He already knew what he wanted to talk about, and had been dreading it for most of the day. "I just want to say at the outset that I do not seek to nor want to destroy your happiness. I really had hoped this time we could be friends."

Erik seemed surprised.

"We werent before?" His expression turned very dark then. "How much do you remember?"

Rajani felt worse, he had already managed to say something wrong.

"Everything, I would imagine, about my own life, but you must understand that its my memories. So if I wasnt present for something, I dont know about it..."

Erik began to pace the room.

"Everything! How long have you known, Daroga?"

"Well, since I was a child- that is- I began to remember then. I would say that perhaps a few weeks ago I remembered the bulk of what concerns you. I hope you understand why I never said a thing."

"I know." Erik frowned at the ground. "I despise it even so. I may have believed you!" He shot a look at Rajani.

"Would it have really made a difference? You couldnt have told Christine anyway. She only accepts it now because she experienced it for herself in an incredibly overwhelming manner."

"I remember only a little more than she. I only started dreaming of the cellar the day before we were in the music hall." Erik said. "But this little more I remember makes me deeply curious about what you remember, dear Dargoa."

Rajani trembled.

"Like I said, I dont want to destroy your happiness with the girl. It seems she loves you all on her own. I was terribly nervous when you mentioned her name the first time. Erik- do you swear to me you won her love fairly? Without threatening to murder anyone or holding her someplace against her will? Can you swear that to me? I need to know."

Erik paled a bit at this speech.

"What in the world happened before to have you ask me that?" He exclaimed. He knew Rajani could not have known about what had been happening at school. "I swear to you that Christine has given her love to me freely, but what's it matter to you?"

Rajani seemed to sigh a little.

"Surely you must know, Erik, that regardless of what you want- that you and Christine and whomever else has been dragged to this time will, with time, come to remember more and more about what was. At most, the process can be slowed, but one day..." Rajani paused. He saw that Erik understood where this was going by his sudden violent glare. "One day, Erik, Christine is going to remember everything."

It was then that Erik remembered that Daroga was one of the people that Christine pleaded with him to not kill. That he had been trapped somewhere in that cellar. He grabbed onto a chair to steady himself. He felt guilt crush down on him from all sides.

"Erik?" Rajani stood and walked over to him and touched him on the shoulder.

"Oh, damn it all." Erik groaned.

"Come sit." Rajani led him to the couch. "Do you want me to bring some tea?"

"Goddamnit Daroga, do you ever shut up about your confounded tea!" Erik shouted. They both froze. "We've had this conversation before. " Erik said miserably. "Havent we?"

He slumped on the couch, head resting in his hands.

"Yes... but instead I was telling you that whether you like it or not, one day Christine is going to realize that you are no Angel, but only a man." Rajani said gently, observing how Erik reacted to being told this.

"An angel? What kind of rubbish is that?" He said, not lifting his head.

"Its better if you remember for yourself. I want to help you though." Rajani said. "The more you remember, the less you will find yourself repeating what you have done and said before. Until then, you will repeat yourself- its your soul's way of trying to get you to remember."

"Then why isnt everyone running around with double memories?"

"Usually when people reincarnate, its in the natural order of things, so the soul doesnt fight to remember. And not everyone is meant to reincarnate, or theyve finished with this world, or theyre meant to incarnate a certain way. Everyone has their path. But us. I think our souls are fighting so hard to remember because its important that we do. Perhaps there was something unnatural, or against our path, that happened." Rajani was now musing aloud.

Erik stared at him, not without a bit of awe.

"You cannot imagine my envy." He said.

Rajani blushed.

"I was just raised with a broader view of the universe. My mother is very new agey, the rest of my family is, naturally, hindu. We have a rather more broad view in general than a monothiestic religion. I was just more open to accepting something like this. I have even spoken of these dreams with my mother. She guided me to figuring out what it meant, and that is why I decided to visit when I did. Even still I think I waited too long."

Erik nodded.

"If we werent friends in the past...why are you trying to help me?" Erik touched Rajani on the shoulder for emphasis. "I tried to kill you once! That much I remember."

Rajani laughed.

"Oh, Erik! It was many more times than that!"

He couldnt help but laugh at the openly horrified look Erik gave him, even as he felt guilty about laughing.

"Daroga, this is no laughing matter!" He huffed. "Do you mock me?"

"No, no," Rajani said. "I'm sorry."

Erik looked away, brooding.

"I hope to whatever god may be listening that she never remembers."

"You know she will remember. You cant pretend that she wont. It will be worse for you."

"If she remembers..." Erik couldnt finish his sentence.

"I could have told her, but you saw that I didnt." Rajani said. "I want to help you because... well, you would understand better if you remembered yourself. For my reasons have remained the same as they were back then. I see something great in you, and I would hate to see it corrupted or to go to waste." Rajani looked away before adding, _"Again."_

Erik didnt respond at first, but only stared at him, wide-eyed. He swallowed hard.

"H-how do I remember again?" The tremor was quite clear in his voice.

"Well, start obsessing over it. Obsessing is something that Erik has always been good at." Rajani smiled, perhaps sadly. "When the mind is filled with a thing, it seeks to obtain more of it for itself. Invite it in, seek it in everything around you, open yourself to experiencing coincidences that are not accidental." Rajani paused. "There's also tarot cards. But I dont know how you would feel about using something like that."

"Daroga. I am a reincarnated monster of some kind with memories of a victorian cellar with a river where I used to trap people. Tarot cards are pretty tame in comparison."

"Very well. I'll show you how to use them in the morning. Its not effective to read when one is tired. Now, I insist we go down for tea."

"Very well, indeed." Erik said. "Erik is going off to his room. Daroga will have to have tea alone."

"Good night, then." Rajani looked disappointed. He didnt enjoy tea by himself quite as much.

Erik left the study and wandered through the dark to his room. The girls had gone to bed. He crept into his room and stripped his jacket, shirt, button-up, and binder on the floor. He had to pause, bent over the bed, to gasp a few times. The binder he wore grew more constrictive throughout the day, so that by the end he was quite desperate to remove it so he could breathe freely again. He kicked off his shoes and fell onto his bed, dark hair sticking to his forehead. He rolled over to stare at the ceiling. He was grateful the curtains were pulled shut, so that the room was satisfactorily dark. His conversation with Rajani played it self over in his head, certain words and phrases repeating themselves. He could feel himself start to fall asleep. Still, Rajani's words echoed.

"_Again...?_" He whisphered to himself. That had stuck with him most of all. "Again?"


End file.
